New Habits: Bad Habit, Book Two
by AmeryMarie
Summary: While Bella flees to NYC to escape her bad habits, Edward's left behind, clinging to his old habits. What will it take to make them realize some things are impossible to run from and some habits just can't be broken? Sequel to BH: Book 1. AH, Mature
1. Chapter 1 Possibility

**A/N: **Sorry for taking so long…again. The prologue from Book One still applies. I just am not going to include it again. This fic was honestly never supposed to be so long.

This chap starts out a little different, but we will go back to the normal format next chapter.

Enough of my rambling. Enjoy the chapter.

**Chapter 1 – Possibility**

**October**

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…_there's a possibility…_

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~//~

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**November**

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…_all that I had was all I'm gonn' get…_

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~//~

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**December**

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…_there's a possibility…_

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~//~

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**January**

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…_there's a possibility…_

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~//~

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**February**

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…_all I'm gonna get is gone with your stare…_

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~//~

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**March**

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…_all I'm gonna get is gone with your stare…_

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~//~

…_so tell me when you hear my heart stop… _

Whoever said time heals all wounds…well, they were full of shit. _Cue bitter laugh._ Time hadn't done a damn thing to close the gaping hole in my chest.

I was a snotty, bawling mess when the plane finally touched down, and I stumbled through the security checkpoint at JFK. When I saw Angela waiting for me – her concern apparent in the way she was anxiously looking me over, hoping to ascertain what was wrong – I broke down even more, and I fell straight into her open arms as soon as I reached her.

"Bel…?" she inquired.

"Not now, Ange. I can't, not now. Just get me home."

"Okay, let's go get your bags then. Do you want to use the restroom first? Maybe freshen up a little?" She winced as she said it, fearful that I would lash out at her.

I knew that for Angela to have bothered saying anything, I had to have been a bigger wreck than I thought…_not that I had really given it much consideration._ Choking back a sob, I nodded and allowed her to guide me to the nearest restroom. Once I had made myself as presentable as I could without actually looking at myself in the mirror, we made our way down to baggage claim.

We arrived at the place I would be calling home for the next year and a half and I collapsed onto the couch, falling into an exhausted sleep almost immediately.

My first six months in New York passed by, but I hardly noticed. I was the night of the living dead – barely alive – a walking horror film. I rarely looked in the mirror but, on the few occasions I had, what I saw confirmed it…I was decaying. My skin – paler than death – was pallid and dull, and stretched tightly over bones that never used to protrude. My eyes were lifeless, and my lips chapped, cracked, and bleeding from all the gnawing on them I did. My days were lost in a benumbed haze, and my nights spent gasping in fiery pain.

I hated that he had this effect on me, and tried to snap out of it, but the hole in my chest only grew bigger, and nothing eased the weight that pressed down on me, heavier by the day, making it harder and harder to haul myself out of bed each morning. Too thin, too bereft, too alone…for the first time in my life I felt like I had a surfeit of things, but they were all things I could do without, and didn't want in any case.

So, no…time definitely did not heal all wounds.

Some pains were just too deep, too etched into your soul for that.

I started school the Wednesday after my arrival, and my new job the following Monday. School, work, homework, sleep. Wash, rinse, repeat. Days turned into weeks, turned into months, during which the only change made was that I went from not sleeping on the couch to not sleeping in my room after my bed – and the rest of my junk – was finally delivered.

I tried to forget him…forget her…forget him and her together, and the happy life they must have…forget the happy life that should have been mine. _Ours_. But no matter how much I immersed myself in my studies, and no matter how many extra hours I put in at my job, there were still too many unfilled hours, and I couldn't forget. Instead, I looked for other avenues that would lead to self-induced amnesia.

I took up running, but found that breathing didn't take nearly the concentration people claimed it did. It allowed me too much time alone inside my head and, after breaking down in the middle of the busy Central Park jogging trails one too many times, I gave it up. I attempted knitting, but how the fuck you can take two sticks, a ball of yarn, and make a sweater is just beyond me. _I think it may be witchcraft, actually._ The only good thing about it was that it made me so frustrated I was able to forget about him for a few minutes, but it inevitably ended in tears and yarn tangled throughout the apartment. Ben and Jerry's, chick flicks, sleep…a misguided, semi-unfortunate trip to the spa for pampering – nothing worked, so I gave up trying, and allowed myself to be sucked into the mire.

~//~

…_You're the only one that knows… _

By the time March arrived, I still hadn't explained anything to Angela, and she had long since given up on getting me to talk to her, or trying to engage me. However, that didn't stop – and I didn't miss – the pitying looks and worried sidelong glances she shot me as she watched me waste away physically and drift away emotionally…_or mentally_…_I wasn't sure._ Everyone has their breaking point, though.

She reached hers when – having been stood up yet again by me for Sunday brunch – she came home to find me…_yet again_…sitting in the chair in the corner of my bedroom staring blankly at the bare walls. Angela was moments away from pulling out the only ace she had—calling Charlie and Renee—if I didn't at least _pretend_ to be doing better. It wasn't normal, the way I was acting like someone died, but that's exactly what it felt like – like I died – and even though I obviously wasn't dead, I certainly wasn't whole. Still, I had to get it together, so I pretended to be getting over whatever it was that Angela thought was wrong.

It was with great reluctance – but for that reason – that I said yes when I was invited out by two interns from my office the first Friday in March. I was completely overwhelmed as I got ready and left for the subway that night. My anxiety continued to ramp up the closer I drew to my destination and, by the time I met the girls in front of where the party was being held, I was nearly crippled with apprehension. I had never been good at socializing, or making small talk without the lubrication of liquor…_or some other substance_…to camouflage my social retardation.

We stepped through the front door, and were immediately hit with the acrid, slightly skunky scent of weed, causing Claire and Emily to glance at me nervously. I gave them a small smile, letting them know they had nothing to worry about; I was cool. Sure, I was technically their superior at work, but just barely…_and besides, I kind of wanted some_. My destructive, I'll-show-him, vindictive side poked her head up, encouraging me. _It'll make the pain go away, Bella. You know it will. It'll anesthetize you to all of the hurt and heartache and sorrow just like you want. _Just like that, Phoenix Bella – post Phil – was back.

An hour later, I couldn't believe I hadn't thought of partying my way through the pain sooner. A little voice in my head – _his_ voice – told me I'm acting stupid and irresponsibly.

_How many times have I told you to be safe, Isabella? _

Shut up, Edward.

_You're thousands of miles from home, with two girls you barely know – and a fucklot of people you don't know at all – who's going to keep an eye on you?_

I'm a big girl, Assward. I can take care of myself.

…_tell me when you hear my silence… _

I argued with him in my mind and, while part of me was thrilled to hear, after so long, his single-malt Scotch voice – rich and smooth, with just a hint of oak – the other, admittedly smaller part was appalled…_you've finally gone 'round the bend, B._ The former, in-charge part snorted in amused wonder at my rational side, and downed another shot of whatever-the-fuck. Then, along with my pride and self-respect, she danced a little jig around Little-Miss-Rationality, taunting her until she burst into tears and ran off to hide. All the other parts of my mind collectively sighed in relief, welcoming the emotional silence.

…_there's a possibility I wouldn't know…_

I had forgotten how effective the right combination of bowls, booze, meaningless sex, and the occasional miscellaneous drug was at helping to forget your woes. I couldn't remember the name of the guy I went home with that night, or really remember the sex, but the disgust I felt for myself was nearly crushing when I woke up at four in the morning. I scrambled in the dark to locate my scattered clothing, dressed myself, and crept out silently.

The stinging cold didn't register as I walked down the sidewalk, tears tracing absently down my cheeks and arms wrapped protectively around my chest in an effort to hold myself together. I had entirely forgotten how low the comedown could be, the sensation felt the same as the rush of returning blood to an area that'd had the circulation cut off to it.

I felt, as I always had if I so much as looked at another man during the last five years, ridiculously like I had betrayed him…but for a few hours all the heartache and pain and humiliation and shame I felt had gone away. I hailed the first cab I saw, and as the driver navigated the streets of Manhattan, I contemplated the previous few hours, already knowing that I would do it again.

The next couple of weeks fell into a pattern of work, school, study, party. I went out every night – if not to a party, then to a bar. I was aware of my rapidly declining performance at both work and school, but I craved the release from my problems too much to give it up…despite the severity of the hangover, or the debilitating pain.

Initially – like the first weekend – Angela was thrilled that I seemed to be snapping out of my funk, but after the fourth night of my stumbling…_or crawling, whichever seemed more prudent at the time_…into the apartment at the break of dawn, the thrill wore off. To her credit, she tried to allow me the space to get through my shit my own way but, judging from my behavior since I'd arrived, I'm guessing she gave up hope that I would work through my new phase quickly. It went just as much against her nature to allow her friends to self-destruct in front of her as it did to interfere, but as I started missing classes and showing up late to work…_if I made it in at all_… it became more difficult for her to maintain radio silence.

As much as she wanted to avoid confrontation, she wasn't going to let me fall. You could practically see her words of concern forming on her lips, but it never came to that.

~//~

Spring break was in its death throes, the mood wanting to be somber, but it was Friday night – party night – so it was hard to let it keep you down. Fridays usually equated to free drinks, and possibly drugs – although, I wasn't ruling them out just yet – but tonight, I was hosting the party!

I was surprised over the ease with which Angie agreed – hosting drunken, college toga parties wasn't exactly her forte, and we both had to work in the morning – but I had a feeling that had more to do with her compulsive need to babysit me, and make sure I didn't do anything stupid…_or as I like to call it, have fun._ Whatever. I wasn't going to look a gift Angela in the mouth.

At two in the morning…_the party still going 'cause Angela passed out_...our apartment was more crowded than ever due to the closing of the bars and the return of our fellow student-neighbors. I was pressed against the refrigerator, sucking face with a pretty frat boy, when I spotted a familiar head of hair across the room. At least I thought I did, but I couldn't be sure…and it wasn't possible. I mean, after all this time, the odds were stacked against it.

Slowed by the rum-laced punch I'd been steadily drinking, my reaction time was so lethargic that, by the time I had registered what I _may _have seen, I had dismissed the notion, convincing myself that it was just the 'shrooms finally kicking in. I was spared further contemplation on it, however, because my frat-douche-soon-to-be-one-night-stand shoved his tongue down my throat, and began to work his hand down the back of my jeans. Anticipation of that feeling of invincibility that made all of it—the hangover, the self-loathing, the _reputation _I was probably acquiring— worthwhile was coursing through me when the vibe in the room changed.

There was a charge in the air, but I couldn't tell if it was negative or positive. I was suddenly having my doubts about doing this. I just wanted _whatshisname_ off of me, and the fuck out of that party. I couldn't breathe, and needed fresh air. I raised my hands to his chest, prepared to push him away if need be, but not actually shoving. His mouth left mine, allowing me to greedily gulp some extra – and much-needed – oxygen as he worked his way down and then back up the clammy skin of my neck until he reached my ear.

"What's wrong," he rasped. His breath against the shell of my ear no longer caused my stomach to clench in the thrilling way I craved. A chill washed through me as his lips crashed back into mine, but I ignored it.

"Nothing," I said, shaking my head, and trying to push down the inexplicable panic welling up in my chest. I forced my lips to continue moving with his as one of his hands found its way into my hair, grabbing a fistful, and using his hold to deepen the kiss.

The party still in full swing, we continued to make out against the refrigerator in full view of everyone, but with each movement of his mouth against mine, it became more difficult for me to control the irrational panic surging through my bloodstream. Feeling on the verge of hyperventilating, I struggled to calm my fraying nerves, and slow my breathing. _What the fuck was wrong with me? I wanted this. Didn't I?_

I wanted to tell him to stop, and that everything was wrong with this – but I wanted the numbness more, and I was still finding it difficult to draw an adequate amount of air into my lungs. Black spots were swimming before my eyes, darkness threatening to claim me, and that wouldn't do; unconscious didn't equal numb. I _needed_ the vacancy of emotion…desperately. He pressed me more firmly against the appliance, waking Shorty up…_well, hello there_…and I moaned as blind lust flooded in, replacing the panic.

The frat-douche shoved his tongue further down my throat, and ground his hips against me. "Yeah, you like that? Uhhhh…you're so fucking sexy!"

_And then it was gone…_

Bile burned my throat – because it wasn't _his _voice, or _his_ words – and I again questioned what the fuck I was doing, but that was a train of thought I didn't want to take; I wanted to quit thinking…_to quit feeling._ I concentrated on losing myself in Frat Douche instead. _I wanted this…I want this_.

Words swirled around my head…_whore…slut…cheap…easy_…and I wanted to not believe them. After all, it was the 21st century, not the dark ages. Renee had raised me to believe that women were sexual beings who shouldn't be ashamed of that fact, but the sexual revolution was still relatively young, and the socially ingrained beliefs and mores regarding women and sex were pervasive. It revealed just how deeply rooted they were that, preparing to do what I was, those feelings and thoughts had assumed command of my mind, and were clinging with such tenacity despite my struggles to push them down.

I internally shook my head, _tsking_ at myself for pondering social issues at such a blatantly inappropriate time, when a movement over Frat Douche's shoulder – stubbly, squared jaw, that same _familiar _hair I thought I'd spied a few minutes earlier – caught my eye. _Stop it, Bella! It's not him, and you're delusional if you think it is. _The hair _was_ familiar, but messy hair was de rigueur nowadays. Plus, I couldn't tell the exact shade, and it was too slicked down to be _him. _The chances it was him…_not a snowball's chance in hell_…were slim, but that didn't stop me from wanting it to be. In self-preservation…_or maybe I was simply a masochist_…my subconscious beat down my hope.

Long forgotten words danced through my ears, _'I need to let you know that I'm not always going to be there to catch you when you fall…' _ He couldn't have been more right had he possessed a crystal ball _and_ Alice's odd, usually infallible gift for predicting things. _Everything, that is, aside from him and me_. Although, technically, she had been right – we were perfect for each other, and meant to be together – it just somehow escaped her shrewd eyes and perceptive mind that we actually _were _together…_sort of._ How it had, I hadn't a clue, especially since I couldn't act worth shit.

A flash of light glinted off a generic framed print on the wall. Cutting across the stranger's head, the illumination caused it to gleam a dark, bronzy-brownish red that made me gasp and shut my eyes tightly. I held my breath, as if by doing so I could suffocate the delusion.

Frat Douche used my hair to tilt my head to the side, and brought his mouth back to my ear. "Do you want to take this somewhere more private?"

Another glimpse of auburn. I gasped, and shook my head to clear it.

"Okay, then…I just thought…"

"Hmm? What? I'm sorry, I didn't hear you."

"I, uh…just asked if you wanted to take this somewhere more private?"

I focused, mustered up my inner vixen, and nodded. Smirking deviously, I pushed against his chest with both hands, and looked up at him. I took his hand, slipping out from between him and the refrigerator, and stepped to the side towards the living room.

…_by blood and by me…_

"Follow—" I pivoted on my lead foot, keeping my eyes on him, but turning my body the direction my feet were taking us, "—me."

My eyes snapped front, as I nearly smacked into…

…_you walk like a thief…_

It was official: I'd gone mad. I had pushed myself so far in my need to hurt him, in my quest to prove that I didn't need him, that I was over him, that I had suffered a psychotic break. That was the only explanation that made sense as to why I was imagining him so vividly…_that or the 'shrooms were more potent than any I had done before. _

"_Edward?_" I hissed in disbelief.

…_by blood and by me… _

_No. (Yes.) No. (Yes.) No, no, nonononononono! (Yes, yes, yesyesyesyesyesyes!) _

_...I fall when you leave…_

~//~

…_so tell me when you hear my heart stop…_

My ears were ringing so loudly that I couldn't focus on the sounds of around me; it was all just white noise to match the white pain in my chest. Everything felt very surreal, in a 'Lifetime movie, this can't be really happening to me' kind of way. The mean girl in my head was chillin' on the balcony with the two old dudes, gigglesnorting over the cliché I was in the middle of living, while my pessimistic side chimed in to let me know that, unlike all those after-school specials, no one was going to save me.

I looked around for someone to contradict her, and all the other characters in my head began to whistle, refusing to make eye contact. _Well, fuck you all very much. _Even Shorty wasn't speaking up…_traitorous cunt_. She had drawn the shades of her basement apartment's single, tiny window, muttering, _Dude, don't ruin this for us, _as she turned on the Barry White, and lit aromatherapy candles.

…_you're the only one that knows..._

"Bella," he said tersely. He stared – hard eyes darting between me and the guy behind me – and then, the next thing I knew, my hand was yanked from Frat Douche's…and I was furious.

"Jesus Fuck, Cullen! What the – what the _fuck_?"

_What the hell did he think he was doing? What was he doing here? _Questions were running through my mind at a pace too rapid for me to keep up with.

Lightheaded and high from a mixture of confusion, rage, adrenaline…_relief_…cocaine, mushrooms and Bacardi 151, I stumbled into his chest. His hands came to my hips to steady me and, in the time it took me to jerk away from him and turn, Frat Douche was scampering away, hands held up, palms facing away from him and elbows surrender. "I don't want any trouble, man. She didn't say anything about having a boyfriend." _Pussy._

I turned back to Edward, glowering and ready to lay into him, but he beat me to the punch. "What the fuck was that, Swan? The city turn you into a common whore?"

I began sending silent prayers to every deity, saint, and demi-god I could think of…_and probably quite a few that I made up_…as well as all three orders of angels, swearing to become a nun – or at least act like less of a whore – if they would please keep me from cleaving him with the butcher knife sticking up teasingly from the knife-block, waggling its handle at me. _Charlie wouldn't be happy about having to visit me in prison…although I doubted he would be sad that the world was short one Edward Cullen. _I increased the fervency of my prayers – mentally genuflecting, bowing and scraping – when he continued speaking.

"Who the fuck was he? I don't imagine that he could be anyone important considering the way he just abandoned you. You sure know how to pick them, dontcha?"

"You should know," I retorted harshly. I stared at him, all righteous indignation.

His eyes lost their hardness, and his shoulders slumped.

"Can't handle the truth, Eddie? How's Tanya? What are you doing here?" I accused and demanded in the same breath, the coldness of my voice surprising even me.

"Bella…" it came out as a sob, his voice breaking halfway through…and I got mad.

How dare he pity me? _Fuck him._

"Fuck you!" I shouted in his face as I stormed off, grabbing the first bottle of booze off the island separating the living room and kitchen when I shoved by him.

…_tell me when you hear my silence..._

Ignoring the stares from my angry outburst, I pushed through my stranger-crowded apartment en route to my bedroom. I saw the boys leering, even thought about taking one of them up their implied offers but, in the end, I didn't. Just the thought of someone else touching me was sickening. _Thanks, Edward. Thanks for depriving me of the one thing that helped me forgive you. _

I finally reached my room, threw the door open, and flicked the lights on, only to find two people getting it on in my bed. I fucking lost it.

"What the fuck? Seriously? This is my room! Who the fuck comes to a random stranger's home and fucks someone they probably don't even know on someone else's bed?" _Um, Bella? Pot, kettle… _Shut up, Conscience, this isn't about me. "Get the fuck off of my bed and out of my room! And I better not find any fucking condoms or wrappers or fluids anywhere, you fucking whores!"

They had begun scuttling around like cockroaches as soon as the lights had come on, jolting apart and hurriedly trying to re-clothe themselves. I was still screaming my lungs off as they jerked the door open and tore out of my room, pulling it closed on their way. I turned to my bed and snatched the bedspread from it, clumsily tossing it one-handed across the room so that, rather than landing balled-up against the wall as I intended, it ended up spread across the small patch of bare floor in my tiny room.

I sank to the floor at the side of my bed. I was drained, my emotions all topsy-turvy and confused. _What was he doing here? How did he find me? Where was Tanya? Why was he looking at me like he was a man dying of thirst, and I was a long, cool drink – the nectar of the gods – when he hadn't wanted me? He had chosen _her. Too many questions were pounding at my head, drowning out the pounding music along with everything else.

I was still clutching the bottle of booze I'd snagged. I needed a drink like I'd never needed one before.

…_I drink alone, yeah, with nobody else…_

Sliding my hand further up the neck, I used my thumb to spin the cap off. Overestimating the tightness of it, I used too much strength, causing it to go shooting under my bed somewhere. I shrugged my shoulders and took a swig. _Eh…c'est la vie._ I braced myself as the rum burned my throat, and then brought the bottle back for another large gulp. I partook of several more nips before resting the bottle on the floor at my side.

…_you know when I drink alone, I prefer to be by myself…_

I heard the click of my door as it latched into place, and didn't even need to look up to know who was there.

"What do you want?" I asked wearily. I was so tired of all of this back and forth, push and pull bullshit between us. Tired of him controlling my emotions, owning me, the angst and the drama. I wanted to be free of it and him, but I didn't know how, or if I could. Truthfully, I didn't know if I really even wanted that. I wanted him, and hated both of us for it.

…_there's a possibility I wouldn't know…_

He filled the room with nervousness, as if he was self-conscious and unsure of how to proceed.

"I - well, I was…. I just never had the… Alice misses you!" he blurted.

"And so do I," he continued softly, "but I guess that doesn't really matter. I just – you have to know, I have to tell you – I lo…"

I cut him off. I was drunk and high and I didn't want to hear it. Where were those words anytime during the last five years when I desperately wanted to hear them? Fuck him, because it was too little, too late. Too much had happened, too much had come between us. Even ignoring all of that, he couldn't show up unannounced and say it while I was drinking myself into a stupor on my bedroom floor.

Using my bed, not relinquishing my hold on the bottle…'_99 bottles of beer on the wall', _I sang in my head, obviously delirious or cracking up…I hauled myself unsteadily to my feet.

"No! Shut up! I already told you, you don't get to say that to me. It's too late! There are no take-backs."

Edward turned around, leaning his head against the door, and I thought I saw his shoulders shake. The lump of ice-encrusted coal that had taken up residence in place of my heart wanted to thaw, but I forced myself to look away. I lifted the bottle to my lips, drinking it down like it was refrigerant. All the tears I had cried over the years…he could afford to shed a few tears over me. He turned around, the movement drawing my eye, and for the first time since his sudden appearance at the party, I really saw him.

I was appalled. _He was a hot mess. _

More than bags, he had a matched set of luggage under his eyes. The dark blue and purple stood out against his pale-even-for-him skin, making him look almost ghoulish…_but no less beautiful_…and his hair looked as if it had been days since he'd last washed it. Instead of standing up in its usual 'fuck you,' single-finger salute to order…_damn the man, and all that_…it was flattened to his head, looking almost matted in spots. _And what was he wearing? _I couldn't imagine Alice had purchased the crumpled, haphazardly-buttoned rags he was dressed in.

I tried to ignore the tear tracks that I could faintly see glimmering in the shitty lighting, but if I was honest, they tugged at me a bit…_and pissed me off, because I wasn't supposed to – no, I shouldn't – I didn't care – I didn't _want _to care_. Combined with the defeated slump of his shoulders, and the sadness that seemed to be etched across his face and mirrored in his eyes, they were almost enough to crack my hardened exterior. To distract myself, I started talking.

"You look like shit, Edward!" I declared, using all of my usual grace and charm. His shoulders tensed…_hey, at least they aren't slumped anymore_…and his jaw clenched.

"So do you," he snapped back angrily. His eyes – hard and cold – softened the moment he spat the words at me and, focusing on the floor, he resumed his previously downtrodden demeanor with his brows pinched together as if he were in pain. Obviously he didn't want to talk about it, and I wasn't supposed to care…_I didn't care_…so I let it go.

"Right." _Moving on... _"You still haven't answered my question – what do you want?"

"Right," he muttered to himself. He sighed before continuing, a hint of frustration creeping into his tone. "I had to find you – I needed to explain…"

"You don't get to explain yourself. Not now. Not ever. Nothing you could say could possibly excuse what you did, so I don't want to hear it. If you know anything about me, if you were ever really my friend, you had to know this? So what are you really doing here? How the hell did you find me? Did Alice tell you? She fucking swore that she wouldn't. I guess I shouldn't be surprised that she lied to me, after all, you're family. Speaking of lying, shouldn't you be in Seattle fucking Tanya?"

Fire flashed in his eyes. "Shut up. You don't know what the fuck you're talking about. I'm not with Tanya. I never was!"

I laughed loudly. "So you weren't fucking her? Right, Edward. Right. Your brother was just making up the story about you being with Tanya for two years, and no one – not Alice, not Jasper, and not Rose – bothered to contradict him? And, let me guess, SHE just _showed up_ at your parents' house to what? See if you wanted to study? Demonstrate a tonsillectomy with her tongue? Ha! Tell me another one.

"I'm gullible at times, and I can be naïve and too trusting, but I'm not fucking _stupid_!" I informed him, before closing my mouth and glaring at him.

"I was fucking Tanya, but I wasn't with Tanya, okay? I admit it! I admitted it in the meadow six months ago, and I would have explained that I had no clue why she showed up that afternoon, but you never gave me a chance! She showed up unexpectedly at my apartment that morning while I was getting ready to leave.

"She only wanted one thing, and she wasn't going to leave until she got it, so I fucked her just to get her out of there. And you know what? I realized that I couldn't stand her, that I didn't know what I was doing messing around with her. When I finally got her to leave, I decided I was going to lose her number.

"I spent the entire drive to Forks trying to decide what to do about us, and I realized that it was time for me to man up and admit that I was in love with you, that I had been for years! Bella…I. Love. You. I'm crazy about you."

I started shaking my head and backing away from him. _No, no, no… Stop saying that! It's too late!_ I was screaming the words in my head at him, but I didn't know if I was trying to convince him via ESP, or myself…_but I was pretty sure it was me._

"These last six months have been hell without you. I thought I was going to die. I couldn't see you, or hear your voice, or send you a text – I didn't even know if you were okay, because I didn't know where you were…or if you were ever coming back…" he trailed off. "Say something, Bella."

Watching in simulcast, I saw myself – how awful I looked. I was appalled and mortified by how low I had allowed myself to sink over a boy – a boy who lied to me, and treated me like a dirty secret…_although the latter part I had allowed to happen. _However, that was a shame spiral I didn't need to go down. Not knowing what to say, or wanting to acknowledge the words that I still stupidly longed to be true, I latched onto, and shouted out, the first thing I thought of.

"You fucked her the morning you came to Forks?" As I said the words, they sunk in. My voice shook with rage, my whole body vibrating with it.

"Is that all you…? Didn't you hear anything else I said? I love you, Bella. I love you!"

"You love me?" I asked, narrowing my eyes and advancing on him. "You love me, you say? You fucked her that morning…in your apartment…before you fucked me that afternoon in the meadow? Are you fucking kidding me? Are you fucking kidding me?"

His face fell, and I could see his hands trembling as he quickly started backtracking. "Bella, it wasn't like that… It wasn't – it didn't… Fuck! Why the fuck can't I get anything right with you? Every fucking time I try, I manage to fuck it up even more.

"I was scared, Bella! Like the pussy I am, I freaked the fuck out over the fact that I was – that _I am_ in love with you. Everything I did, I did because I was trying to prove to myself that I wasn't. I was – still _am_ – no good for you. I always knew, from the beginning, that it was only a matter of time before I hurt you. I shouldn't have ever let you get involved with me, but I did; I couldn't stay away from you. I knew I should break it off, but I couldn't do it. I tried to…so many times, but I could have sooner quit breathing.

"I am going to pretend like you didn't say that about Alice, because you know she didn't tell me. She's been miserable without you..." the hint of desperation tainting his words faded, and his voice grew quieter, "we all have. No one in my family besides my parents – mostly Esme – will even speak to me. They all – rightfully – blame me for you leaving. They are furious over how I treated you, what I did to you."

I gasped, and could actually feel my eyes try to take over my face upon hearing his revelation. "You told them?" I could hear the note of hysteria tainting my words. "Why the hell would you tell them? Why?"

"I had to. They had pretty much figured things out on their own anyway. It was either tell them the truth, or let them keep imagining whatever it was they had come up with in their heads…and you know Emmett has a vivid imagination…"

His attempted joke fell flat; there was no humor in the situation…_not to me_. I buried my face in my hands. "I can't even imagine what they think of me."

Edward was instantly at my side.

"No, Bella…they love you. No one thinks any less of you. It's me they hate, me they blame…"

He told me everything, laid it all out there on the table, leaving himself naked and bare – exposed – and all I felt was cold. It was too much to process. To have the man you have been in love with for five years tell you that when he met you, he thought he could simply fuck you out of his system. How he had only fucked all those countless other girls, because he was trying – hoping – to feel something for someone other than you…I was gutted and floored. Numb.

Others might see the romance in it, how he fought to prove he didn't love me out of fear of hurting me. They might feel sympathetically towards him over his obvious lack of faith in himself, his self-loathing. They might have been able to forgive him, but as for me, in that moment, I hated him. Truthfully, honestly hated him.

"Get. Out."

"Bella…n-n-no? Bella, no?" he choked out, shaking his head and reaching for me. He moved towards me, trying to touch me, but I slapped his hands away. "Please, Bella…please, no…"

"Don't touch me! Just go."

"Bell…"

"Get. Out. Now." I wouldn't look at him.

"Okay," he meekly, but reluctantly, acquiesced. "If that's what you want, then I'll go…just…please call Alice. I promise I'll stay away, just don't make her suffer for me…again. It's not fair to her, or you."

…_so tell me when my sorrow's over…_

He turned and started for the door but, before I could even process what he was doing, he turned back to me and clutched my face between his hands. The bottle of rum I still gripped slipped from my hand and clattered to the floor, the contents gushing out of it echoing the air rushing out of my lungs. He stared into my eyes, his mouth moved towards mine, inching slowly closer…_closer…ever closer…inch…by…torturous…inch…closerclosercloser…until…_and he kissed me.

I'm not talking about a small, gentle kiss. I'm talking about a kiss that was all explosions and bright light and lust and love and pure energy all wrapped up into one. I was helpless to his assault. He claimed me, body and soul, and met no resistance when he pushed me down to the bed. Tongues and lips and teeth nipped and played, blazing a trail over needy flesh…_so good…yesssss…missed you…need you...closer…need to feel you… _

Hands groping…_ now, now, need you now_...frantically shoving at clothes…_more and please and now…_until dexterous fingers encountered bare, slick flesh…_ah, yes!_ His hand shoved inside my half-pushed-down jeans, the other inside my mostly unbuttoned shirt, both teasing and stroking and pumping as he played me like he hadn't missed a day of practice, while I clumsily glided my own fingers over him.

I didn't know what to do with all the sensations that were zinging and pinging through my body, carried from the pleasure receptors in my brain, synapses snapping from one nerve to the other until the ecstasy reached from the very tips of my toes to the end of each individual strand of hair on my head.

I came hard on his fingers, sanity finally returning as I came back to earth, and I realized what we were doing.

…_you're the reason why I'm closed..._

"No!" I pushed his hands away from me, removed my hands from him. "No. Stop. Stop, Edward." I pushed him feebly away, but he didn't fight me.

…_tell me when you hear me falling…_

Panting, eyes wild, lips swollen and still damp from my skin, he asked, "Why? I thought…?"

…_there's a possibility it wouldn't show…_

"Thought what? That sex would solve everything between us? It won't. It can't. You broke us! No, you more than just broke us – you destroyed us beyond repair. Nothing can put us back together again, nothing can put _me _back together again. _Not _all the king's horses, and definitely not all of his men," I said the last part sadly as I tore my eyes from his, and looked at my lap.

"Just give me a chance, please," he pleaded. "I love you, Isabella. Please just give me a chance."

…_by blood and by me, and I'll fall when you leave…_

"Well, I don't love you, and I never will. Just go." I whispered, covering myself with my sheet.

…_by blood and by me, I follow your lead…_

And he did.

~//~

My mask remained in place until the second I heard the click of my bedroom door, and then it crumbled. My shoulders shook with silent, dry-eyed sobs that stole the oxygen from my lungs. The paltry gasps of air I was able suck in were barely enough to sustain me, and I could do nothing to calm myself.

So lost was I in the desolation I had just wrought, that I didn't hear the re-opening of my door, or the gentle padding of feet across the timeworn, scarred, and abused wood of the floor. The moment I felt Angela's warm arms wrap around me, drawing me into her comforting, maternal-like embrace, the dam burst, and the tears were a running river carving their way down my face. The mournful wail that rang out across my cavern-like room sounded as if it had been torn from my very soul as it echoed throughout the barren room that was a mocking replica of my hollow chest. The wound, that had ached from my phantom-limb heart since the day I had left Forks, felt fresh and raw.

I could only guess at the surprised confusion Angela must have felt over seeing Edward stalk out of my room – eyes red-rimmed, looking sloppy and rumpled – at such an early hour, and I cringed. She still didn't know, and I knew she wondered about what had caused me to not only leave home so suddenly, but to arrive in the state that I had and then behave as if I was dead for months…but to her credit, she had never once asked. The question was always in her eyes, but as I had so rarely bothered to make eye contact with anyone all these months, I was able to ignore it.

Here she was now, probably conjuring up all sorts of crazy stories, yet she remained silent. She simply held me close as I fell to pieces. Her sturdy frame shook from the body-wracking sobs that were ravaging me. I didn't deserve her comfort or support after what I had just done, and after being so absent since I had arrived. She deserved better than me, so I tried to push her away, but either because of the weakness of my attempts, or because she simply refused to acknowledge them, she wouldn't allow it, and her selflessness made me cry harder.

Her pajama top had long-since soaked with my tears, and they showed no signs of abating any time soon. It couldn't have felt pleasant, she had to be disgusted by it, but rather than push me away she simply shifted me closer to her and brought one hand up to stroke my hair gently while rocking me softly to and fro. She may have even been humming one of those tuneless melodies used to soothe colicky infants and frightened, upset toddlers, but I wasn't sure. My keening was drowning out all of the noise in the room.

I couldn't believe she was still there with me, but I didn't have the strength to continue my attempts to push her away. Even though I shouldn't have, I finally gave in to my selfish need to be comforted, and allowed my arms to wrap around her and hold onto her as tightly as I was able. Gasping and wheezing until my bawling turned into hyperventilating, I dissolved in her arms. Eventually I fell asleep, worn out from everything that had happened over the past 24 hours…_six months_…_five years_…_whatever._

~//~

I woke with my face buried in a pillow that smelled like Edward, and the pain of seeing him walk out my door – even though I told him to – rocked through me again. And then I remembered everything that followed, and I felt my body flush with mortification and shame over the meltdown Angela had witnessed. The feeling only intensified when I realized that she had put me to bed like I was a baby, since I had been incapable of taking care of myself.

As my mortification grew, so did my awe and reverence for her. I had always liked Angela, but I had to admit that I never allowed our friendship to surpass the superficial, nor allowed her in as deeply as I had others. I realized now that I had done a disservice to both of us and was appropriately shamed and humbled for not truly seeing her until now.

I didn't know what time it was, but I was certain that Angela had left for work (which meant I was late) and despite my epiphany, I was relieved that she would not be there. I knew she was going to want to talk about what happened, and I couldn't yet; I hadn't had time to process any of it. So, imagine my surprise when I rolled onto my side, opened my eyes, and saw Angela's big, sympathetic brown eyes staring back at me from the other side of my bed.

"Thought you would wake up soon," she said, her voice gentle, and only a little more than a whisper. "I called in sick for you, and let them know that I would be late – I didn't want you to wake up alone."

I started to open my mouth to speak, but she stopped me by pressing two fingers to my lips. "You don't have to say a word, Bella. I'm not gonna lie, I'm curious about what happened, but you don't have to tell me anything until you're ready, if ever – okay?"

I nodded, and felt tears form in my eyes…yet again. "I'm going to go now that you're awake, but I will be home by ten. Call me any if you get lonely, or need me to pick something up on my way home, and I can be home in thirty minutes if you need me to come. Just say the word, 'kay?"

I saw through watery eyes as she looked at me for confirmation that I had heard her, and I obediently nodded again with just enough vigor to send the first drop splashing down to the sensitive skin of my tear-scalded cheek. My silence only lasted until she removed her fingers from my lips.

"Ange, this is too…" I hurled at her, managing no more than those four words before they were lost to more crying…which made me angry. Seriously, how the fuck was it even possible for someone to cry so much. I was a pathetic mess who couldn't even speak without being overwhelmed by leaky tear ducts. Maybe I had the opposite of that condition where your eyes don't produce enough moisture on their own.

Even had my inability to quit fucking crying not made it impossible to continue speaking, Angela's fingers – pressed to my lips once again, and with more pressure this time – would have silenced me.

"Bell…don't. Just take it for what it is – me doing for you exactly what you would do for me…what you once did for me once even knowing it, okay?" _What? What was she talking about? _My question was apparent in my eyes and my scrunched up brow, causing Angela to grow visibly uncomfortable, which was extremely out of character for the girl she was now.

Until college, she had always been a bit shy, wearing her social awkwardness on her sleeve. As much as she had blossomed socially during the last couple of years at college, I had been surprised by how much more one summer in New York had brought her out of her shell. She was almost unrecognizable as the girl I had met in Forks on my first day of school.

Her nervousness unnerved me. _Seriously though…what the fuck was going on? _Biting her lip, she rose from the bed in preparation of beating a hasty retreat. "So, you're awake, I'm gonna run. Call me if you need anything…uh, take care of you. I'll be home by ten."

She skeddadled out the door…_and then there was one. _

It was just me.

Alone.

With my thoughts, which was never a good idea.

~\*/~

**Songs Used*  
****(In Order of Appearance):**

_Possibility _by Lykke Li  
_I Drink Alone _by George Thorogood  
_Possibility_ by Lykke Li

_*All songs are the property of their respective owners. No copyright infringement intended.  
_

**A/N: **I have the next two chapters started, but it may be a month before I can post. It's show season for me, and we are making software changes at my office so I am not getting much time to write. **I am not going to flounce this fic. Trust.**

Have not had the time to reply to most of your reviews for the last chapter of Book One, but please know that I read each one of them, and appreciate them more than I could ever say. I will try to be better, but I assumed that you would rather me write than reply.

Thanks to my betas, RedVelvetHeaven (bless your little wussy heart for all the HF you suffer for me and BH), my fellow LoD girls, and all of you for sticking with me.

**Recs:  
**_Stampede of a Thousand Pulses _by ss10  
_Dinnertime_ by GiveUsAKiss413  
_And With Thee Fade Away_ by Derdriu oFaolain  
_Dark Games & Twisted Minds _by Katinki  
_So Cruel _by Demosthenes91  
_The Longest Summer _by lexiecullen17  
_The Empress of Csejte _by goldenmeadow


	2. Chapter 2  Novocain

**Disclaimer:** No Copyright infringement intended. S. Meyer owns the characters, and certain plot points; I just own the manipulations.

**A/N:** I have viable reasons for the tardiness, but I won't bore you with excuses. This is longer than intended, so I apologize in advance for that.

I have two fabulous and brilliant beta's, as well as a wonderful pre-reader, who all do a great job. Me? I'm not so infallible. Any errors contained herein are mine, and mine alone.

Enjoy.

* * *

**Chapter 2 - Novocain**

* * *

Take away the sensation inside  
Bitter sweet migraine in my head  
Its like a throbbing tooth ache of the mind  
I can't take this feeling anymore

This sensations overwhelming,  
Give me a long kiss goodnight  
And everything will be alright  
Tell me that I won't feel a thing  
So give me Novocain

- _Novocain, _Green Day

~/~

She was gone, and no one would tell me where she was.

I requested a week off work – Jane owed me, and it was my last week there anyway – and spent it outside Alice's apartment door pleading with my sister to tell me. I also went and bought a ring. Apparently, in my desperation, I convinced myself that proposing to Bella would somehow grant me her forgiveness - as if that was even within the realm of possibility - and prove to her just how serious I was.

I wasn't stupid enough to think that my chance of fixing us, ring or no ring, was likely, but I hoped that it would make her take pause, maybe give me a chance to try. At the very least, when I found her – regardless of our outcome – I needed to make things better between her and Alice. It was all for naught though; no matter how much I begged and pleaded, Alice wouldn't open the door, much less speak to me.

Actually, no one in my family would speak to me except my parents – Carlisle just barely, and only because I was his son. My mother stood by my side, all sympathetic – you can fix this, Edward, I have faith in you – and doting. I couldn't stomach the trust in her eyes or the hope in her voice, so I took to avoiding her as much as I possibly could without making her cry. '_Cause that wasn't going to go far toward improving the 'so chilly they were glacial' relations between me and the rest of my family. What would be next? Pushing down little old ladies?_

My first clinical clerkship started the week after she left, so I had no choice but to vacate my post outside Alice's door. Part of me was incredulous that the universe continued to spin madly on when it felt like my world had not only ground to a halt, but begun to fall down around me. Despite that, I threw myself into my studies, needing and welcoming the distraction. While I thrived academically, the rest of my life stagnated, becoming a cesspool of self-loathing and bitter remorse.

I was completely anti-social. I put in my shifts for my clinical at UW's Medical Center, attended the conferences associated with it, went to the library, and home. I declined every invitation that was extended to me by various study groups that wanted me to join them. I ignored the lustful looks sent my way by the scores of random co-eds, the occasional staff-member, and even many of the patients. My groceries were delivered, and I ordered take-out food whenever I just couldn't be bothered to cook for myself. I even stopped answering my phone, because it was never _her_ calling. It didn't take long before my phone stopped ringing altogether, except from my mother's concerned and overly-chipper calls to chat._ I was convinced Esme had me on suicide watch._

I dreamed of her…_Bella_…every night – sometimes nightmares, sometimes what could have been – and thought of her every day. I wondered what she was thinking…_if she ever thought about me_…if she was doing okay, if she was safe, if she had friends, and if someone was making her happy, because I wanted her to be happy. I would have preferred to be the one making her smile, and for her to find joy with _me,_ but after making her miserable for so many years, the least I could do for her was to grit my teeth and pretend that I was just fine if she found it with someone else_. Because I wanted her to be happy, _I reminded myself...for the millionth time, _even if, in reality, I died inside. _

_~/~_

Time passed, both slower and quicker than I would have believed possible. Every day was somehow different, yet at the same time, identical to the ones before it so that they all bled into one another. I marked the passage of time by the number of days since I had seen her last…_30 since I've seen or heard her voice…64 days and can't function…99 days and I had 99 problems…121 days…176…_

For six long months, I searched for her.

I spent my entire Thanksgiving break trying to weasel information on Bella's whereabouts out of everyone I knew – Charlie, my family, Rose, Jazz – all to no avail.

By Christmas Eve, when she still hadn't shown up in Forks, I was so desperate to find her that I booked the first flight leaving Seattle for Florida. On Christmas morning, while my family was nestled all snug in their beds, I crept down the stairs quiet as a mouse with visions of Bella dancing through my head.

I assumed it would be easy to get the information I needed out of Renee. I mean, I was supposedly irresistible to the ladies, and she was a lady.

Wrong.

"Don't think that a pretty face and devilish smile will get you anywhere with me, young man. I knew when you came down here with her a couple years ago-," _Try five, Renee. "-_for spring break that there was something going on between you two, but I could never prove it. You can't pull the wool over my eyes this time.

"Charlie had a feeling you might try something like this, so he called and told me everything after Bella left. I'll be damned if I'll let you continue hurting my daughter."

"That's right, because that's _your_ job isn't it, Renee?" I accused.

"You little shi...how dare you?" she had the nerve to ask.

Her shrill voice was grating, further fraying my already frazzled nerves. My continuing inability to find Bella had turned me into such a volatile mess that - even had I wanted the company of others - no one wanted to be around me, and I had been looking for someone to take my aggression out on since she left. That I just so happened to have been itching to fight this particular fight for years only exacerbated that, so I let her have it.

"It's a bit late to play the selfless mother now, don't you think? Don't even try that bullshit with me, Renee. I know better, because I was the one who put her back together every time you decided to make an appearance in her life. Your drive-by pseudo-parenting may have eased your guilt, but it did nothing good for Bella.

"You've hurt her more times, and much more deeply than I ever have, so you don't get to say shit to me about _protecting _her," I sneered. "How's Bella 2.0, your replacement child, by the way? Have you left her with the babysitter for days on end without so much as a word about when, or even _if _you would be back, so that you could run off to Mexico with your flavor of the week?

"Has she had to deal with knowing that you only came back because… Actually, why did you come back, Renee? Don't answer that. It doesn't matter, because we both know whatever you say would be bullshit, just some fabricated story you came up with to help you sleep at night. I really want to know though, are you getting it right this time around, or is she going to go through life feeling unloved by – and invisible to – her own mother as well? Is she going to grow up feeling worthless and undeserving of happiness the way Bella does? Or are you going to give this kid a fighting chance at having those things?

"Did you finally get a maternal instinct? Well, where the fuck was it when Bella was little and had nightmares? What about when she needed someone to soothe her adolescent fears, or guide her through the awkwardness of puberty? Were you too busy accusing her of trying to seduce your boyfriends to be her mother? Huh, Renee? Where the fuck were you for your daughter then?

"Maybe if you had been there for her instead of out fucking everything with a working dick, or a clit to lick, I wouldn't be spending Christmas day searching for the girl I want to spend the rest of my life with. Maybe Bella wouldn't have Mommy issues and a fear of commitment if you had just _one time_ put her first. Maybe, if she knew what love was, she wouldn't have run away from it when it was offered to her."

I was yelling right in her face at that point, and it felt..._damn it feels good to be a gangster_..._damn_ good. It wasn't the whole truth, I wasn't admitting the role I had played in Bella's disappearance - it may not have even been the appropriate moment, and it was certainly irrelevant to the real problem at hand - but like I said, I had been wanting to tell her off for years. I wanted to make Renee feel as awful as possible…_it's not like she hadn't earned it…_and, if I was being honest, it was also nice to pretend – even if just for a moment – that someone else was to blame. I was killing multiple birds with one stone, all by screaming at Bella's piece of shit, lousy excuse for a mother. Still, I would have traded all of the dead birds in the world for finding Bella.

Caught up in using Renee as my whipping boy, I didn't notice her slowly shrinking away from me – face drawn and frame shaky – or Phil hovering just inside the door looking…_torn?_ The rational part of me that remained, tiny as it may be, was appalled over my behavior, but didn't interfere, or stop me. Phil, however, did.

"Edward, I think that's about enough. I'm gonna have to ask you to show a little respect to my wife. Come on, man, just…take a walk or something, and calm down a bit."

"Nah, that's fine. I was just leaving," I replied, still glaring at Renee.

Keeping his eyes on me, Phil stepped into the doorway, and wrapped an arm around his wife, as he struggled for something to say that would ease the awkwardness of the situation. _Because what do you say when the guy that had apparently been romantically involved with your step-daughter – whom you barely know – shows up on your doorstep, and calls your wife out for her shitty parenting skills? _Giving up, he said simply, "Well, have a good day then?" His uncertainty made it sound like a question, though.

"Whatever," I sneered…_because not only had I lost my nuts, I had turned into a thirteen-year-old, sulky fucking girl. _

As I turned to leave, out of the corner of my eye I saw Renee pull herself up to her full height and square her shoulders. It was something I had seen Bella do a thousand times, and she and Renee looked so much alike that, if I hadn't known better, I would have thought that it was Bella. Of course, Renee had to speak, shattering the fantasy.

"I may have failed Bella in the past, but it's never too late to start." Renee didn't sound like she believed her words. After a brief pause, she continued with more confidence, "So even if I did know where she was, I wouldn't tell you."

I wanted to turn and scream at her that it was too late, that the damage had been done, but I knew I was being unfairly hypocritical…_and I was pretty sure Phil wasn't above decking me if I didn't back the fuck off_…so I said nothing. Instead, I gave her a final withering glare, turned, and walked away.

~/~

I didn't bother returning to Forks, or even calling my family, when I returned from Florida. No one questioned me about my disappearance…_not that they would have, as most of them still weren't, speaking to me, and probably wouldn't be any time soon after leaving the way I had …_but I wouldn't have told them had they asked; it was none of their business. Anyway, I could only assume Charlie had called my parents, or something. _What-the-fuck-ever_.

Time continued its slow death march.

She had been gone for nearly six months…_176 days_ _to be exact_…when I finally had a break – which coincidentally coincided with the rest of the world's spring break – between clinicals. I hadn't given up hope yet, but I knew that my chance of fixing things with her dwindled with every day that slipped away from me.

I was tempted to go camp out in Chief Swan's front yard just in case Bella came home, but if she hadn't come home for the holidays, chances were she wouldn't be home for spring break either..._like really fucking good chances._ As much as I knew I was I was right, it was still difficult to convince myself of it. My only consolation was knowing that if Bella so much as breathed in the direction of Forks, Esme would know about it, and Esme was seemingly…_shockingly_…on my side. There was no way she could slip past me. _When it comes to Forks gossip, the FBI wouldn't have anything on my mother. _

I couldn't have gotten away from the city for a week anyway; I had too many commitments. I had all kinds of school shit to deal with, studying to do, and Jasper asked me to water the plants, and check the mail at his and Alice's apartment while they were in Mexico with Emmett and Rosalie. I gave Jazz and Em some shit for going away during Spring Break – I mean, they weren't even in school anymore, and they were still celebrating Spring Break? Grow the fuck up. _Yeah, I was jealous._

If I hadn't ruined things, Bella and I could have been with them…_Bella on a sandy white beach...in a bikini…or naked...but not on the beach because there was no way I would ever be cool with any motherfucker besides me seeing her naked. Not gonna fucking happen. Fuck! _ My dick had never hated me by even half as much as it did at that moment when he realized that I was responsible for the mother of all cockblocks..._and the rest of me was in complete agreement with him. _Had I not been such an epic fuck-up, I could have been in sunny Mexico, buried inside Bella at that exact moment. I spent a vast majority of the week angry and torturing myself by cataloging all of the positions and places that we could have fucked..._in the ocean with her legs wrapped around my waist, on the beach with her on top, in the pool from behind, in a cabana with her pressed against the wall, in our hotel room going down on her in the bed, her going down on me in the shower, on the balcony any which way..._ I also spent a fucklot of time beating off. _What? It was a really long list. _

When I wasn't occupied with inappropriate thoughts of Bella, or handling..._literally_...the effects of those thoughts, I kept busy. I ran, I worked out, I studied for my OSC Exam and, when I couldn't handle being in my apartment any longer, I went to the library. Even though it moved slower than old people fuck, I managed to make it through most of the break without thinking of her constantly…_and only calling Esme once a day to 'chat' about nothing. _

~/~

On Friday morning, I realized that Alice and Jasper were due home sometime the next day, and my lazy ass hadn't bothered going by their place since the previous Friday. Knowing that I would be fucked if Alice were to find out, and not really feeling like listening to another one of her bitch-fits, I reluctantly headed across town.

I grabbed her mail from the first floor mail room – almost unable to turn the key in the lock, it was crammed so full of shit – and made my way up to the tenth floor bearing an armload of crinkled periodicals and scrunched envelopes. _Seriously, who the fuck gets that much shit in just six days? _ _I don't think I get that much mail in a month. Maybe even three. _Barely managing to avoid toppling the Leaning Tower of Shit Alice Doesn't Need, I carefully unlocked the door and let myself in. I dropped my burden on the hall table just inside the front door, and headed to the kitchen to grab the watering can, causing a handful of my sisters _very_ important correspondence to fall off as I walked past.

_Fuck it_, I thought, _I'll pick them up on my way out_..._or I won't. Who knows? _Alice would yell at me for it, but she was going to do that no matter what. She tended to shout everything she said to me, but at least she was talking to was a definite improvement on the cold shoulder she'd been giving me for months.

Watering can filled, I went through the house and watered the plants according to the directions taped to each planter…_my sister, always the anal-retentive micro-manager_. A few ounces here, then there, and on and on, ad nauseum, until I'd watered each plant. My loving sister had dozens of photos of Bella littered throughout the rooms near the houseplants, turning the place into a fauna-filled torture chamber – an Edward-specific Shop of Horrors – which explained why I hadn't been there since Alice and Jasper left.

By the time I finished, I'd forgotten about the pile of mail on the floor, kicking it in my haste to leave. My mind wandered as I gathered it up. _Yeah, I bitched out. _Picking up a white greeting card envelope, I was reminded that Jasper's birthday was coming up. I glanced down at the card, about to toss it onto the pile of mail I'd picked up, when a familiar loopy scrawl caught my eye; I was nearly floored. My eyes darted to the left-hand corner in search of a return address, and relief washed over me when I found it there.

I booked my flight over the phone as I scrambled around in search of a pen and paper on which to write the address. With the stolen address secured inside the zippered pocket of my fleece jacket, as well as entered into the notepad on my phone, and backed up online – _What? I wasn't taking any chances_ – I placed the innocuous-looking envelope with the rest of the mail, tucking it into the middle of the stack, and headed out, closing and locking the door behind me.

I arrived at my condo with just enough time to throw random items into a bag and make it to my gate right as they made the last call for boarding.

~/~

Unable get a direct flight to New York, I had to make do with a connection in San Francisco and, nearly ten hours after leaving SeaTac, I finally landed in the city. It was just after one in the morning, local time, when I walked out of JFK and hailed a cab. I gave the cabbie the address stored in my phone and waited anxiously to arrive at my destination. It was late, and she probably wouldn't be awake to even answer the door, but after six months, dawn was just too far away; I couldn't wait a second longer to see her. Bag in hand and cabbie paid, I climbed out of the taxi and...just stood there, staring at the building in front of me.

Finally on the cusp of seeing her, I was rendered immobile, paralyzed by a mixture of fear and nerves. The adrenaline that had been driving me seemed to have fled, leaving me cold, empty, and unsure. It wasn't until the door began to close behind a group of stumbling college-aged kids that my feet resumed working and propelled me forward to catch the door before it latched. It was close to two in the morning, and some part of my subconscious was aware that getting inside without someone buzzing me was seriously impeded by the late hour; I couldn't afford to let the opportunity pass me by.

It was likely that I wouldn't have had to worry, as the hallways were full of people coming and going due to the rather loud party that was being thrown on Bella's floor…in Bella's apartment of all places, as it turned out. _Are you shitting me?_ I had been drowning in misery and self-loathing for six motherfucking months, and she was living it up in the Big Apple? _It's probably not what it looks like. _I was trying to tamp down my urge to jump to conclusions. After all, Bella's jumping to conclusions – not without reason, mind you – was minutely to blame for Bella leaving in the first place. Taking a deep breath, I took the plunge and followed a group of people inside.

_It was exactly what it looked like. _

Imagine my surprise when the first person I ran into was…

"Angela? Angela Weber?"

Shock and confusion played across her face as she gaped at me. "Edward Cullen?"

Her confusion seemed to clear as she looked behind her, scanning the crowed room, but she appeared wary when she turned back to me. She gave me a quick once over, and by the time she reached my face, her expression had softened. Seeing the bag in my hands, she offered, "You want to put your bag in my room? It's locked."

I had actually forgotten about the bag slung over my shoulder, and couldn't have cared less either way, but not wanting to be a jerk, I nodded my assent and silently followed her through the closed door that was kitty-corner to the apartment door. Okay, I really wasn't terribly concerned about being rude – although acting like a dick to Angela Weber would have been a little like kicking a puppy – mostly I was just desperate to put off seeing Bella for a few more minutes. My nerves were still all over the place, and Angela's less than enthusiastic greeting had my self-doubt rocketing into the stratosphere. _What the fuck was I doing?_ It was entirely possible that I should have put more thought into showing up on Bella's doorstep unexpectedly. I still had no clue what the fuck to say to her, or even how she would receive me.

Angela closed the door behind us, and then turned and appraised me. "So – you and Bella, huh?" she said after a moment.

I rubbed my hands over my face. "Uh, yeah. Is she here?"

I thought I heard her say something like, "It's about damn time," under her breath, but I couldn't be sure. "Here, I'll take that," she said, not answering me. Instead, she took my bag, and walked over to set it down on a narrow bench at the foot of her bed. She was still turned away from me when she spoke again.

"Bella's out there somewhere…probably in the kitchen with the booze...and her new friend." She stole a glance over her shoulder, gauging my reaction, and flinched at the look on my face.

_The fuck? New friend?_

"I'd, uh…get out there soon if I was you, before she disappears to, uhm…" I bristled over what she seemed to be implying, and she quickly finished speaking, but I was certain it wasn't what she intended to say, "…her room."

"Right," I said gruffly. I turned to leave, and decided I could be a bit more polite. I might be a dick in general most of the time, but Esme did teach me manners. As I reached for the door, I awkwardly added, "Thanks and, uh – it was nice to see you again, Angela."

"You too, Edward. I have to work tomorrow, so I'm gonna try to get some sleep. Just knock whenever you wanna grab your bag. I'm a pretty light sleeper so…"

I was both slightly buoyed and dismayed by her words. "Uh, okay. Yeah, I will. And thanks…again." I walked back into the even more crowded living room, closing the door behind me.

I wandered around the party for a while, chasing what always turned out to be elusive impostors before I found Bella…in the kitchen...pressed against the refrigerator and practically dry-humping some frat-boy while attempting to suck his lips off. Anger. _Intense rage._ Those were the first things I felt. It was quickly followed by relief that I was all the way across the room from them, because I wouldn't have been able to be held responsible for my actions had I been closer. I forced myself to remain where I was, aware that it wouldn't do me any good to go off half-cocked. I needed a plan.

So I stood there – jaw clenching, hands fisted – watching him grope the girl I loved…_my girl_…as she writhed against him, fighting every impulse I had telling me to go over there and inform him that she was spoken for. I wanted to deck him, toss her over my shoulder, and carry her off to some private place where I could then spend hours reminding her of the same thing, but I still retained a shred of sanity. _A very small shred._ I had no rights to her – I had seen to that – but knowing something does a shit lot of good when you're being ruled by your emotions.

The asshat fratboy ground his dick into her and grabbed her tit, and…fuck it. I couldn't take it any longer. Finally reaching my limit for seeing another man's hands and mouth all over her, I lost my fucking cool. Not even knowing that I was about to make the biggest mistake by revealing my presence to her in a display of possessive anger was enough to stop me. Not when she appeared to be moments away from taking him back to her room. _Over my dead body. _That wasn't going to be happening.

It was irrational for me to expect that Bella hadn't been with anyone else since I saw her last, not after what I had done to her. I may have been the bad guy throughout our arrangement, but Bella was no saint either. Letting me know that she could fuck other people whenever I hurt her too much had always been her standard MO. It wasn't especially mature of her, but neither were my caveman-like reactions to it, and nothing about our relationship had ever been mature – or healthy, for that matter. It wasn't like she did it every time I fucked around and, unlike me, she wasn't indiscriminate; despite me having treated her like one for five years, Bella wasn't a whore.

Rather than sleep around – not that I liked it any better, but once again, I had no right – Bella had a couple special friends that were there for her, no questions asked, whenever the need arose. So, like I said, I wasn't surprised to see Bella with a guy, but I didn't fucking like it, and there was something about the way she was behaving that seemed off. Maybe I was imagining it, looking for a way to justify the major cockblocking I was about to pull, but maybe I wasn't…and that wasn't a chance I was willing to take. _It's easier to ask for forgiveness than permission._

_~/~_

My feet propelled me towards her, my arrival somehow timed perfectly so that as she began to lead him out of the kitchen, she turned and came to an abrupt stop inches away from my chest. My entire body throbbed from the almost contact, aching to crush her to me, but something in her eyes, the way she carried herself, warned me against it. She looked so…_broken_. _I broke her._ I had never been so aware of how much I didn't deserve her – had never done anything to deserve her – and the words that suddenly spewed from my mouth only served to drive that truth home, but I couldn't stop the flow…and then she left.

Too stunned to move, I stood there staring at the space that Bella had occupied only moments before. _ Did you honestly expect her to have forgiven you for all the shit you put her through, or be happy to see you? _ The thought stunned me - I hadn't really thought about it - but, stripped down to nothing by my grief over having lost her, I didn't have to dig far to find the answer. I had. Call it what you will – wishful thinking or self-delusion – but I had this vision in my head that she would know how much she meant to me when I suddenly showed up and, seeing that I was finally making an effort for her, she would – naturally – forgive me.

I was wrong. As usual.

But, unusually, I wasn't going down without a fight.

I determinedly set off after her, scowling at any and every guy that I caught staring in her wake. Fucking scavengers. Sick, opportunistic motherfuckers who wanted to take advantage of a drunk and obviously perturbed girl…_but was I _really_ so different from them?_ I had taken advantage of her for years. The answer was no, but I really didn't fucking care, and I'd be damned if I let anyone touch her. It may have taken me a while to get there, but my intentions toward Bella were finally pure…well, not entirely pure – I _still wanted to do depraved things (that she would enjoy) to her _– but I wanted more from her than the douchebags I was glaring at.

As I stepped into the short hallway, the slightly ajar door at the end was yanked open, and two people came scampering out, Bella's enraged shrieking trailing after both of them. The guy seemed mostly unruffled, and pretty amused (he was definitely going to be bragging about it for years to come), while the chick – clothing askew, boobs hanging halfway out of her shirt, and flushed like she'd just been fucked – looked mortified, not to mention furious. A small part of me was shocked and appalled that I didn't check out her exposed rack. _Say whaaaaat? _I could still hear her haranguing him long after they were out of sight, the sound eventually swallowed by the noise of the party.

I hesitated for a moment outside of her door before pushing it open carefully.

~/~

For months, I had dreamed of standing in front of her, apologizing to her, explaining myself, and watching her face as she realized what I had gone through to find her so I could make amends. To say that the experience was failing to live up to expectation when it was finally happening, would be an understatement. It was one of the most painful, devastating moments of my life…and I still hadn't actually spoken with her…_the mud__slinging we had done in the kitchen didn't count._

_...We trade tit for tat like that for this, and I don't think that there was an insult that was missed..._

From the moment I spotted her, everything went wrong…_that wasn't how it was supposed to be, she was supposed to be happy to see me, to embrace me_…and it only went downhill from there. Seeing her with that guy fucked me up in the head. I suddenly understood how she felt all those times she had caught me with someone else…and how she could keep coming back for more, no matter how much I hurt her. I had reacted without thinking – making outrageous accusations, and calling her a whore – and still, I wasn't done, it seemed, because there I was trapping her in her bedroom even though she clearly did not want to speak to me.

I was prepared to face her fury.

I deserved her wrath.

I wasn't prepared for the sight that greeted me.

_...I can see it in your eyes like I taste your lips, and I'm very sorry_...

My shame and guilt spiraled, and increased even more when I found her sitting on the floor with her back against her bed, her knees drawn to her chest, wincing with each pull she took from the bottle of amber-colored liquor in her hand. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and set the bottle on the floor with a thud. Clearly not finished with it, she kept her hand wrapped around the neck, and stared blankly in front of her, as I quietly closed and locked the door behind me.

As awful as I felt, I was still selfish enough that I was going to go through with forcing her to listen to me, and I didn't want to be interrupted by anyone, especially none of those drunk fucks rockin' out with their cocks out in the living room.

…_practiced are my sins, never gonna let me win, aw huh, under everything, just another human being, aw huh... _

Of course, like everything else since I had walked through her front door, it failed to meet expectations.

~/~

…_stay with me, you're all I see, I wonder everyday as I look upon your face, did I say that I need you? Oh, did I say that I want you? Oh, if I didn't, now I'm a fool you see, no one knows this more than me…as I come clean…._

I attempted to tell her, once and for all, how I really felt about her, but she wouldn't listen. Tempers raged and grew and grew until anger – on both sides – boiled over, and I found myself spilling everything – _everything_ – even shit that should have stayed quiet because knowing it would only hurt her more. I should have shut the fuck up, but once truth started pouring out, there was no stemming the tide.

I saw every wince, every new wound inflicted by my words, but I still couldn't stop. I didn't know which of us was being tortured more – her or me. It was no wonder she didn't want to hear that I loved her – was unable to _believe_ that I loved her – or that she sent me away. I didn't deserve her five years ago, and I certainly didn't deserve her now – not after all I had put her through – but dammit if I didn't want…no, _need_ her. Desperately.

I told myself, when I turned back around and kissed her, that it was simply a goodbye kiss, but deep down I knew better. I had hoped she would be like Sleeping Beauty except, instead of my kiss waking her up from an eternal slumber, it would wake her up to what we had, to what we could have. We weren't always this fucked up, and whether she wanted to admit it or not, there was something there, some deep connection between us. It was that connection that I had been counting on to carry us through the mess I had created.

I would be a liar if I said that I was disappointed our kiss escalated as it had. I'd been fantasizing about being with her – feeling her soft hands touching me, my hands and mouth and skin touching her, tasting each other, being inside her – for months, but it was never my _intention_ for it to go so far. Feeling her quicken around my fingers as her breath stuttered, and she groaned unintelligible words…_fuck!_ She was always beautiful, but she was gorgeous when she came. I watched her give herself over to ecstasy – her hand still wrapped around me tightly, but unable to keep up her previous rhythm – and then she was shoving me away, and…_epic fucking blue balls_.

Admittedly, my first instinct was to throw a fit…_are you fucking kidding me?..._about being left hanging when she got hers…_you can't just stop like that_…but luckily I had enough sense left to shut the fuck up. Just thinking about what she had said to me…

"_Just give me a chance, please. I love you, Isabella. Please just give me a chance."_

"_Well, I don't love you, and I never will. Just go."_

…crushed me. The ring that was in my pocket – the one that I'd bought for her months prior – suddenly felt hot and heavy against my leg, its presence burning my flesh and weighing me down.

…_so have a good drown, as you go down, all alone, dragged down by the stone_…

For one brief, desperate moment, I almost took it out of my pocket in a last ditch effort to gain her forgiveness. Somehow – just barely – I didn't make that egregious error. _I'm stupid, but I'm not that dumb, thank God._ As much as it hurt me to do so, I was going to do as she requested – I would leave.

I had decided long before I saw her face that I would honor whatever she asked of me. Anything she wanted, even if it would destroy me – which I was certain leaving her would do – I would give it to her, but before I left I made one last plea…for Alice.

…_nothing you would take...everything you gave…_

~/~

It was sometime around six in the morning when I walked out of her life and her room, closing the door behind me. I heard her break down as soon as the door was closed, and it took all that I had to not say fuck it, go back inside, and comfort her. But I'd promised, and if that was all she would accept from me, then I would give it to her. My heart had been ripped out of my chest, but still I would give her that; _I would give her anything._ Unable to walk away yet, I leaned my forehead against the door so that I could be there for her in some way…however abstractly.

I heard a throat clear, and turned around to see Angela – arms crossed over her chest – standing at the end of the hall. She waited until I met her eyes, turned around, and walked away clearly expecting me to follow. Sighing, I pressed my head back to the door, and made Bella a promise, "I'll love you forever. Forever. I swear it, Isabella Swan."

…_hold me 'til I die...meet you on the other side…_

I had destroyed everything – her – me – _us_. Bella hadn't just asked me to leave, she had been asking me to let her go. As I went to meet Angela, I made another vow. I would let her go. I would still love her – forever as I had promised – but I would no longer interfere in her life. I walked out into the now empty but filthy living room, prepared to meet whatever was in store for me. I couldn't quite meet Angela's accusing eyes as I approached her.

"I think – I think Bella could really use a friend right now, Angela. I just…she's not in a good place, and it's my fault, but I swear to God that I came here to fix it. I thought…well, it doesn't matter what I thought, because I fucked everything up like always.

"Just please take care of her…for me?" I asked in a whisper that was equal parts earnest and desperate. "I know we didn't really know each other in school, and I know I've never had the best reputation when it comes to the opposite sex, but I _do_ love her, and I would never want anything bad to happen to her. So please…"

"You didn't need to ask. I better get back there before she finds out I'm consorting with the enemy." She tried to smile at me, but it was closer to a grimace.

"Right. Yeah. Well, um…thanks," I said, and made my way to the front door. Seeing my bag on the couch, I scooped it up on my way by.

Just before I closed the door behind me, Angela called my name, "Hey, Edward!"

I poked my head back in the door.

"For what it's worth, she loves you too…but sometimes love just isn't enough, y'know? You have some place to go?"

"Um…not really. I'm just gonna head to the airport, and catch the next flight home. Thanks…again, Ange."

She nodded, but didn't say another word as she turned and walked towards Bella's room. I let myself out, making sure that the door was locked behind me.

~/~

I didn't know what to do when with myself when I got back to Seattle, so I resumed my life as if nothing had happened. Suspended in space and time, I was numb, void. I functioned on some level – I did all the things I did before New York – but it was all wasted on me; I hardly knew I was even doing it.

Not only did I not have Bella, no longer could I even hold on to the dream of one day getting her back; I wished I'd never gone to New York. Hopelessness descended, leaving me more lost than I had been during the six long months that I'd searched for her. I was just an empty shell, not even sure why I bothered keeping up with the charade of living.

Inside, I knew why – I couldn't do that to my family because, whether they were speaking to me or not, they loved me. More importantly, I couldn't do that to Bella. She would blame herself, and allowing her to believe my blood was on her hands would be a worse crime than suicide. Besides, that would be the pussy way out; I'd made my bed, now I had to lie in it.

~/~

Two weeks after I returned to Seattle, I woke up to the annoying sound of Malice obviously in a tizzy about something. Whatever it was, I didn't want to hear it, so I pulled my pillow over my head and tried to ignore her, but her voice pierced through the cotton and down.

"Edward Anthony Cullen, if you don't get your ass up right this instant I swear to fuck you'll regret it! I've been trying to get you on the phone for hours. Now, unless you want to spend a large sum of cash replacing your precious baby grand, I'd suggest you pull that pillow off your head, and look at me!"

_What the hell is she talking about, and how the fuck did she get in my room?_ _Shit_. I had never asked for the key to my apartment back…_and what the fuck did she say about my piano?_

"If you touch my piano, Malice, I'll run your shoes through a wood chipper, and shred your latest _whatever-_entino's," I threatened from behind the shield of my pillow. "What do you want?"

I was pretty sure that I knew what she wanted. It was the only plausible reason I could think of for her showing up out of the blue, but then again, with Alice, you never could tell. Pulling the pillow from my face, I faced the firing squad…_just do it already…and don't miss._

From the expression on her face – I couldn't tell jack shit. I stared at her passively, idly wondering if she could tell from my eyes just how dead I was inside. She no longer intimidated me; she couldn't hurt me more than I already had. Only Bella could, and the only way for her to do it would be to remove herself from the world, to no longer exist, but it wouldn't hurt for long. I wouldn't be far behind her; I couldn't live in a world where she didn't exist. A bit fatalistic, and melodramatic of me, but oh well. It was the truth.

"To what do I owe the pleasure, Al? Gotta get your sadistic kicks somewhere, and you couldn't find any small animals to torture? Thought you'd stop by to see if you could make me just a little more miserable?"

She snorted. "Someone certainly thinks the sun rises and sets up his ass! Don't insult me. I wouldn't waste my time. You're doing a good enough job on your own, and it's no fun to kick someone when he's already down." Pausing, she gave me a long, perusing look, and then casually asked, "So…do anything interesting over break?"

_Oh yeah, she knew._ Since I was already in trouble…

"Not really. How 'bout you? Have a good time in Cabo?"

"Don't be cheeky, Doucheward. Bella called me last night."

Hearing her confirmation was totally different than surmising I was right. I tried not to read anything into it – she did it for Alice and because she was a good friend, not for me. Still, I could detect the faintest tingle run through me. It wasn't enough to resuscitate, but plenty to shatter me completely if things hadn't gone well.

Playing it cool, I quirked an eyebrow at her. "Oh?"

She gave me one of her patented 'shut the fuck up before I shut you up' looks, and I did just that – I shut up. Whatever shallow enjoyment I'd been getting from fucking with her lost its appeal.

"I know you went to New York and saw Bella and, while I think you're a fucktard for doing that, I've recently come to realize that it's none of my business what goes on between you two. Neither of you need me interfering, or further fucking things up for the two of you…Lord knows you do enough of that on your own," she added under her breath. A douchey comment was on the tip of my tongue, but Alice continued before I could get it out.

"Thank you though…for what you did…asking Bella to call me. You didn't have to do that – especially after the way that I've treated you the past six months – but you did, so thanks," she said softly and shyly.

I didn't know what to say. I wanted to hug her, but I also wanted to kick her the fuck out. I did neither, just continued to stare blankly. Never one for needing encouragement, she continued.

"I've been a bad sister, and a bad friend, but all of that stops now. Whatever happened in the past, or happens in the future between you two, is just that – between the two of you. I won't be used as a middle-man, or speak to either of you about the other. That being said, Bella did ask me for one thing, and I agreed."

She bit her lip and looked away nervously. When she looked back at me, her face was a blank slate, leaving me to guess whether I would hate her or want to kiss her when she finished. The tiny ember of hope that still glowed somewhere deep in the recesses of my hollow chest suddenly roared to life, causing my heart to pound erratically. Holding my breath, trying to suffocate the flames, I waited for Alice to continue even though I wasn't sure I _wanted_ to know Bella's message.

Alice only hesitated a moment or two before speaking.

"She wanted–," she paused, gulped down some air and, without looking at me, spit it out in one rushed breath, "–wanted me to ask you to respect her wishes, and stay out of her life."

_That wasn't so bad; I already knew that._

"And also–," her voice even more apprehensive, "–she told me to tell you that she, 'meant what she said.'"

_I felt as if I had just been punched in the gut…_

"Oh, wait! There was more," Alice squeaked. "She also said that she, 'wasn't going to change her mind,' and that 'some broken things aren't meant to be fixed'."

…_and then insulted, to add to the injury._

Outwardly, I looked fine – my stoic mask of indifference and disinterest remained intact; Alice was ignorant of the havoc she had just wrought. With five little words…_she meant what she said_…none of them longer than a syllable, the revived flame of hope in my chest was doused. When she delivered the remainder of the message, parts of my mask began to thin. _Some broken things aren't meant to be fixed._ Steam from the snuffing out of my hope billowed around me until the condensation obscured my view.

"What's that mean, Edward? What did she say…" Alice began questioning, but I couldn't hear her over the sound of my entire being shattering.

"Edward!"

It could have been days, but was more likely minutes, if not seconds, before I was able to acknowledge her. "What?" My voice was toneless, blank, hollow and dead to my ears.

She looked at me as if I was stupid. "What did she say?"

"I thought you said you were going to stay out of…" I stopped when I saw Ali's face – she looked more concerned for me, than nosy – and started over. "Nothing. It doesn't matter."

She wanted to press the issue, but somehow managed to hold her tongue, and let me be…_for now_. That could all change in five seconds.

"Look," I said brusquely, just needing her to leave, "I have some shit I need to get done before I meet up with my new lab partner at the library, so…I should get started."

"O-kay. What should I tell Bella if she asks what you said?"

"Tell her…whatever she wants; I just want her to be happy. I'll see you around, Al." Once again, she got no argument from me, just mumbled a hasty, _love you_, turned around, and was gone.

I remained in bed, exactly as I had been when she left, until I had to leave for the library to meet with my clerkship partner on a paper we'd been assigned.

~\\~

That was the first day of the rest of my life without Bella and, for better and worse, everything in my life changed.

Her relayed message was a brutal awakening, a cold hard truth that I was forced to accept. No longer could I tell myself that she didn't mean what she'd said to me – that she was angry, or under the influence and unaware of what she was saying – not when she'd had two weeks to cool down and contemplate it.

That was also the day there was a shift in the relationship between Alice and myself. She seemed to have finally found it within herself to let sleeping dogs lie, and had both absolved me of my sins and pardoned me of my crimes. We had always loved one another, but the small part of her that had for years wanted to hurt me was no longer at war with it.

Having turned over a new leaf, Alice jumped into our renewed relationship with both feet. _Oh, joy is me. _ With a vengeance, she took it upon herself – enlisting the others in our group, of course – to pull me out of what she considered to be the 'funk' I was in. She didn't seem to get that it was so much more than depression or heartbreak over Bella's rejection.

Melodramatic and fatalistic-Romeo-and-Juliet as it may be, I had lost my reason for living when I lost Bella. The only reason I still existed was because she did, and when she ceased to exist, I would too. Until then, I was just going through the motions, putting in my time. I'd always been a fairly all or nothing individual; I never did things by half measures, but I resigned myself to my half-life, and went about my days trying to act as if it all mattered.

~/~

Against my will, hours and minutes and days and weeks passed by. Before I knew it, spring blossomed into summer, I'd completed my clinical, and it had been three months since I had seen Bella. I never stopped missing her, or wishing she were here. With little success, my sister persisted with her misguided attempts to engage me in my own life. Sure, every now and then I let her and the gang drag me out of the sepulcher that my apartment had become, but only enough to erase the pained expressions on their faces every time they looked at me.._and to keep them from holding an intervention. _

Alice had remained true to her word, not mentioning anything Bella-related to me or even speaking her name in my presence. I could only assume she hadn't mentioned me to Bella either, but Rose was under no such injunction, and I worried when her and Alice went to see Bella over Memorial Day Weekend. I didn't want Bella to know how pathetic I was. I didn't want her pity; it would kill me.

When they returned, any hope I had that Rose managed to keep her mouth shut vanished with one glance. The way she looked at me –halfway between piteous and smug, and as if she had a secret – was unsettling; Rose wasn't exactly known for her sympathy for me. I tried to not dwell on it, but it gnawed away at me, slowly metastasizing until its tentacles invaded every part of my mind, and it took all of my concentration to hide from it.

Falling back into not-so-old habits, I resumed avoiding my family. My attitude further deteriorated and, by the time my summer clinical began, I was in full-on anti-social dick mode, but at least I had something to distract me from worrying what Bella knew.

~/~

We spent the first day of the clinical in a conference room for orientation. Surveying the room when I walked in, I counted three rows, five tables deep, with each table seating two people. There wasn't a chance in hell that thirty people had signed up for the clinical, and that suited me just fine. Choosing an empty table in the back corner of the room, I spread my shit out, taking up most of it in a way I hoped screamed, 'Leave me the fuck alone!'

_Apparently, the message wasn't clear enough. _

A messenger bag landed on the floor beside me with a _thud_, followed by the metallic shriek of the chair as it slid across the worn tile floor. _Oh, come the fuck on! _I thought, glancing around at all the empty lab tables. I wasn't in the mood to make idle chit chat with some douchebag who would end up latching onto me and need to be coddled for the next six weeks. _Fuck that! _ I would be just fine on my own.

About to shove my shit in my bag and move to an empty table, I was stopped by a familiar voice that I couldn't quite place. My head snapped up, meeting the speaker's eyes. She looked familiar. I hoped she wasn't a past conquest. I didn't think she was.

"Hey, Edward." _She knew me, so maybe she was. _"You don't mind–," nodding towards the chair beside me, "–do you?"

_Um, yeah, I do. _

Awaiting my answer, she began to nervously ramble – her words coming in one, long run-on sentence – when I continued to stare dumbly at her. "I wouldn't have bothered you, but this pervy guy, Tyler, who's been hitting on me for like a year now, is in this clinical and I really don't want to have to fend off his advances and attempted gropings or get stuck with him again if they partner us up and…well, you were the only person I recognized in here, but obviously you want to be…

"I'm just gonna… Sorry for bothering you. I wasn't thinking. I'll just be…" Her hand in a fist, she pointed with her thumb over her shoulder. "…go."

She bent down to retrieve her bag, still muttering to herself, when I compulsively reached out and stopped her. Shocked and startled, I stared at the hand wrapped around her forearm wondering what in the fuck I was doing, and it took me a moment to register that she was looking at me with big, questioning eyes waiting for me to speak. I didn't know why I stopped her, or what to say, but hoped something would come to me soon. I looked up at her…and words seemed even farther away.

The way she was looking at me – all earnest and eager and hopeful – and the way she _looked_ – nervously nibbling her bottom lip and her cheeks flushed a soft pink – brought Bella to the forefront of my mind…_not that she was ever far from there. _I couldn't think, I was drowning, swept away by memories of another time, in another classroom, with another blushing girl. _God, I missed her._

"Edward…?"

"Hmm? Oh! Um, yeah...sorry. I was being rude. You're more than welcome to sit here, uh…" _What the fuck was her name again. _

"Char-lotte," she said, pointing at herself.

I continued to stare at her - mouth open, questioning expression on my face. _Anddddddddd…? _

"I was partnered up with you." _Keep going._ "For a clinical in the Spring." _MmHmm?_ "The Surgery clerkship at Harborview that started right after the break, and we were also both in the OB/GYN one over at Swedish immediately afterwards," she said carefully, and somewhat self-consciously.

I was the one who should be..._and was..._embarrassed. She had not only participated in two of the same clinicals as me, but she'd been paired up with me for one of them, and I didn't remember her! That wasn't exactly flattering, or good for a girl's self-esteem. _'Hi, apparently you know me, but you're so forgettable that I can't seem to recall your name or face. Could you tell me again, please?' _ Nice.

"Sorry, about that," I muttered. "I was a bit – distracted during the spring." _That was a bit of an understatement. _I had all but sleepwalked my way through the clinical, and wouldn't have managed to pass had it not been for my photographic memory.

"Yeah, apparently. Are you sure it's okay if I...? As eager as I am to be saved from certain molestation by Tyler, I don't want to intrude…"

Trying to reassure her, I gave her an unconvincing half-smile, and said, "I already know you. Better you than someone else, so I guess we're saving each other."

"Thanks, Edward. You're a lifesaver."

"Not a problem, Charlotte," I dismissed, saying her name in hope of actually committing it to memory this time.

I picked up my things, giving her some room, and orientation commenced.

~/~

Harborview's emergency surgery clinical was fast paced, which wasn't all that surprising since it _was _the leading trauma hospital in the state. From day one, there was no time to fuck around, but it suited me. I liked that there was no time to think about anything other than the trauma immediately in front of you, and I was so tired after my shifts that I fell asleep before my head hit the pillow. Oftentimes, I would even manage to sleep the entire night. The only downside to the clinical was that, despite my photographic memory, I found myself having to look up conditions or procedures entirely too often for my liking.

Charlotte and I did end up being partnered together again. It wasn't as awful as I anticipated it would be, since she was nearly as much of an academic overachiever as me and she ended up being a great study partner. Neither of us wanted to be the one to misdiagnose a patient, so we met up – always on neutral territory, of course – three nights a week. Charlotte persisted in asking me to grab a drink with her after every study session, and every time I turned her down.

After about the second week it had grown tedious, and she started to wear me down. Tired of feeling like a complete dick for constantly declining, I finally caved at the end of the third week, agreeing to join her for one beer. It had been a while since I'd socialized with anyone and, tempting Murphy and jinxing myself, I figured what could it hurt, and even offered to drive.

~/~

"Well, I'll be a motherfucker." _Uh, no. That would be me._ "Look what the cat beat to shit and dragged in. Edward Cullen as I live and breathe," drawled the familiar voice of my (former) best friend and future brother-in-law from behind me.

_And because where there's smoke, there's usually my dumbass brother…_

"Who's the babe, Eddie?" he inquired. I didn't even have to turn around to know that he was blatantly checking Charlotte out. _That's just how he rolls, despite the Wicked Bitch of the Pacific Northwest having his balls in a jar._

…_I'm on my knees, pretty, pretty please kill me! I want to die! Put a bullet in my bra-a-a-ain_...

I turned around just in time for… _Whack!_ A hand struck the back of Emmett's head, and then Rose materialized at his side looking as bitchy as ever. _Speak of the devil and she shall appear._

"Damn, babe! What was that for?"

She rolled her eyes. "Think, Emmett!"

She turned her attention to Charlotte – who, by this point, was leaning back against the bar watching my family's shenanigans and asshattery. Extending her hand, Rosalie introduced herself, "Hi, Rosalie Hale, Edward's soon-to-be sister-in-law. Please excuse my worse-half. I swear he's not as dumb as he looks, he just hasn't quite mastered thinking before he speaks."

_What the fuck?_ Rose being nice? Rose is never nice. I didn't bother to follow along as the conversation carried on around me, I was too busy hypothesizing just what exactly was going on. _Maybe Rose was a pod person? Multiple personality disorder? _Not coming up with anything useful…_or remotely plausible_…I considered giving up altogether…_but no_. In a brilliant display of just how much my social skills had deteriorated during my self-imposed expulsion from my former life, I blurted the question out.

"The fuck you playin' at, Rose? Why the hell are you being so nice? You're not nice."

There was a split second of absolute silence within the little bubble we had formed in our corner of the bar, during which time seemed to come to an abrupt halt, and everyone – except for Rose and myself – held their breath…and then the bubble burst. Reality pushed its way in as oxygen pushed its way out of their lungs, and time started spinning madly around us in hyper speed as if trying to make up for the delay.

Alice's voice (Had she been there the whole time?) rang out like a starting gun, alerting the others…_ready_..._set_…that it was _go _time, and they simultaneously reacted.

"Edward!" Alice chastised, eyes all bugged out.

"Dude…" Emmett shook his head in…_possibly mock_…disappointment, and tossed Charlotte an apologetic look. _Which was rich coming from the king of the inappropriate comment. _

Jazz didn't actually say anything, but his loud sigh, the way he averted his gaze, and the way he rubbed his his forehead said plenty. _Could you fuck this situation up any more, dumbass?_ Bringing his eyes to mine for a moment, he purposefully looked to my side… _Fuck!_ I had forgotten all about Charlotte. Intending to apologize to her, I was stopped mid-turn by Rosalie.

"Believe me when I say I didn't want to, but Alice made me promise to play nice. She didn't want me ruining your little date for you." She somehow managed to simultaneously roll her eyes and sneer at me. "I mean you're more likely to fuck it up than me, but she started off on this rant about this being the first time anyone has seen you attempt to be social without being forced, and how you've practically been on suicide watch for the past nine months, blah, blah, blah, blah…"

"Rosalie!" "Rose!" Alice and Jasper yelled at the same time while Emmett looked on, admiring the fracas with glee. I just stood there – mouth gaping and completely dumb – unable to react.

Emmett copied Charlotte's pose, kicking back against the bar with his arms crossed over his chest. When our sister and his girlfriend began to bicker – Jazz trying without success to settle everyone down – he looked even more delighted than he had when Rose began her tirade.

Emmett covered his mouth with his hand, and conspiratorially stage whispered to Char, "Just wait. You haven't seen anything yet. It's just getting good. God, my girl is smokin' hot! I love it when she gets all sassy and bitchy." He snorted. "No one can spin our little sister up quite the same way Rose can, and I've spent my entire life trying.

"Watch this." He winked at Charlotte, cupped his hands to his mouth, and called out, "Don't let that shrimp push you around! Show her who's boss, baby!"

"Shut-up, Em!" both girls snapped at him.

While the full force of their glares were aimed at him, Emmett looked properly scolded, calling out, "Sorry, babe…Alice." But the second their attention returned to each other, he was smirking again.

"Works every time," he said under his breath. _Idiot._

Despite Emmett's outburst, Rose and Alice didn't miss a beat, their argument picking right up where they left off.

"He started it, Alice! If he could have managed to not act like a complete dickhead for five seconds…"

"Rosalie Hale! So. Help. Me. God. If you say one word, you will regret it. Apologize now, and then keep your mouth shut until you leave, or I'll do it. You know I will."

I glanced at my brother, my face scrunched in confusion. _Huh?_

He raised his eyebrows, and his grin widened. "Alice told Rose that if she didn't play nice, she'd cancel the reservations for the wedding venue. It took both Alice _and_ mom pulling strings to get us in there," he said in a low voice.

"Would she really do that?" Charlotte asked.

"Yes," we answered in unison without hesitation while continuing to stare straight ahead.

"Wow, that's cold."

"No, that's Alice," I corrected.

~/~

At Jasper's urging, and much to Emmett's disappointment, Alice and Rose excused themselves to continue their discussion in private.

I took the opportunity to apologize to Charlotte, and she told me I could make it up to her by staying for another drink or two. It was the last thing I wanted to do, but I didn't have a choice. _Fuck, I sounded like Meursault. _

"My treat," I offered, and she smiled.

"Hey man, we're going to go get a table, alight?" Jasper asked.

"Cool, I'll meet you over there."

Charlotte left with them while I turned back to the bar and ordered a couple beers. Alice and Rose were there when I finally found the table, and I noticed that they had kind of split up into groups around it – the women congregated, engrossed in conversation, at one end, and the men on the other watching a game on one of the many flatscreens located around the bar.

Jasper and Emmett tried drawing me into conversation about the Mariners' chances this year, but I couldn't focus on the discussion. I kept giving vague, monosyllabic answers, or making non-committal noises, hoping they wouldn't notice my distraction. I was trying not to eavesdrop on the girls' conversation… Okay, maybe I wasn't trying that hard, but I just wanted to make sure that Alice and Rose – mostly Rose – kept their claws sheathed and didn't embarrass me any further.

It's not like Charlotte knew that she would be subjected to this kind of scrutiny, or the tag-team, good cop/bad cop interrogation being conducted by Turner and Hooch at the other end of the table…_I think it's obvious which of the two of them is Hooch_…when she asked me to grab a beer with her. I couldn't believe Alice and Rose. Charlotte and I weren't even really friends, and they were acting as if they were vetting the future mother of my children, or a supreme court justice…_or their best friend's replacement for my affection_, _which was bullshit_. It wouldn't have been fair of me to let her fend for herself against that.

"So how do you know Edward?" I heard Alice ask her.

"Med school. We had a couple clinicals together last quarter, and he kind of got stuck with me for another one all because he did a good deed and let me sit with him."

"Oh, wow! That long," Rose said sweetly, and it would have been okay if that was all she said…but it wasn't. She had to follow it up in that passive-aggressive bitchy way that she learned from her WASP-y mother. "Hmmm? That's an awfully long time to be hanging _together_ without Edward ever mentioning you to…_any_ of us."

"Well, I don't see why he would mention me, we're just classmates," she replied just as sweetly, but with a bit of acid lacing her words, giving as good as she got.

A sharp, acerbic laugh bubbled in my chest, and slipped past my lips before I could stop it. I coughed, trying to cover it up, but – if the glares, and barely concealed smirks were any indication – no one was buying it. I brought my beer to my mouth before anyone had the chance to say anything, and started gulping it down. _Wrong move. _

"Well, I wouldn't feel too badly about it. He rarely fucks a girl long enough to bother mentioning her," Rose helpfully informed her.

Trying to aspirate the liquid, I choked, spitting beer all over the table in front of me…as well as the faces of Jasper and Emmett. Emmett kind of deserved it though. _The fucker should put a muzzle on her if he's gonna take her out in public._

"Dude! Party foul! It's swallow, not spit, bro," Emmett grunted in annoyance. "Fuck! What are ya', new or something?"

Disgusted, Jasper wiped his face, and my sister half-heartedly chided Rose, "_Rosalie_."

Busy trying not to choke to death on my beer, I was unable to say anything, but it turned out I needn't have bothered; Charlotte handled Rose on her own.

"You've noticed that about him too? I rather enjoy that about him since I have no interest in who my _study partner_ and _classmate _is fucking. Does your fiancé know you're so interested in who his brother's fucking because, I have to say, it would concern me if I were him? Well, it's been a real pleasure, but I have to be going now." With that, she stood up and gathered her things.

Finally able to draw a fluid-free breath just as she started to walk away, I snapped. "Real fucking nice, Rose. You're a complete bitch, you know that? I'm not fucking anyone, since you're so Goddamn interested, and – for the record – if I was, it wouldn't be the business of anyone here but me. You can stop looking out for _her._ Trust me, she doesn't give a shit what I do because she doesn't want me!

"I went there and I groveled and I tried to get her back, but she let it be known, in no uncertain terms, that she doesn't love me back! While I've been trying to find her, and pining away for her, she's been... _Fuck!_ She's been moving on with her life. I fucked up with her in the past, don't think I don't know that, or that I wouldn't give anything to go back and change it. I fucking tried to fix it, but I couldn't…so fuck all of you! You don't get to judge me."

I had more to say, but before I could get the words out, a couple bills were tossed on the table in front of me.

"I've got this round." _Charlotte._

"Edward," she said looking at me. "Thanks for grabbing a drink with me. I wouldn't have asked, but I don't know a lot of people here, and I hate grabbing a beer by myself. Too many Tylers out there. I'll see you at the hospital. Bye." She turned to leave again, and I jumped up to follow, intent on apologizing for everyone – but mostly Rosalie…again.

I hadn't wanted to be there in the first place, wanted to stay even less and, with Charlotte storming off, I no longer had any obligation to do so. I snatched my jacket from the back of my chair, and said, "I'm out. Don't call."

And, without a glance at any of them, I left.

"Real nice, Ro," I heard Jasper say as I walked away.

Followed by Emmett in his 'please don't kick me out of bed' voice. "Come on, babe…"

~/~

Charlotte was already walking down the sidewalk by the time I made it outside and called her name. Either she was ignoring me, or she hadn't heard me, because she didn't stop, so I took off after her at a jog. She was waiting for the signal to change at the crosswalk when I caught up to her.

"Hey…" Her shoulders stiffened upon hearing my voice. She didn't turn around or acknowledge me, and the word trailed off. "Charlotte?"

She sighed, but finally answered, her voice monotone, "What, Edward?"

"I wanted to apologize for my family…and Rosalie. They were way out of line…and I'm sorry." _Douche._

"It's fine," she said abruptly.

"Are you sure, because you don't sound like it was fine?"

"It's fine, Edward. Just let it go."

"Ooo-kay. So – are we cool then?"

"Yep."

Her replies were short and snippy to the point of being terse, and I wasn't sure why, but I didn't like it. _What the fuck did I do?_ The signal changed then, alerting us that it was safe to cross the road, but she didn't make any move to go.

"You gonna cross the road now, or catch the next signal?" I asked trying to be funny.

She sighed loudly again. "Why are you still here? Don't you have someone to go fuck?"

"What?" I asked confused. _Seriously, what is it with chicks and their random leaps of 'logic' that I just don't understand?_

"Nothing. I'm just – that Rose girl is a raging bitch, y'know?"

I knew she was changing the subject, but, worried about the direction that she may have been going, I let her do it. I didn't want to ruin our casual acquaintanceship. It was easy. Simple. She didn't expect anything more of me than to do my share of the work, she didn't look at me with pity or disgust, and she never seemed as if she was judging me. Best of all was the fact that she didn't know Bella.

"The sad thing is that she wasn't even _trying_ to be a bitch. That wasn't even scratching the surface of her bitchiness. If her untapped bitchiness were an oil reserve, Iran would be dependent upon _us_ for oil."

She tilted her head, and squinted her eyes, peering up at me. "Did you just…oh, my God! Did Edward Cullen just make a – a joke?"

"Maybe, but – you know – don't go telling anyone. I'll just deny it if you do."

"Oh, I won't. It wasn't that funny," she teased, and then we were both silent and she was staring at me in a way that felt familiar, but I couldn't name it.

I started to feel uncomfortable, because joking around with her was a little too close to the lighthearted taunting Bella and I used to engage in – the lighthearted taunting that was always a precursor to more with us – and it felt like such a betrayal to act that way with anyone else.

Needing a break from the tension that seemed to have fallen over us, I grasped for something to say. "So, you're really not mad at me."

"Really, really. You can't be held responsible for someone else bitchiness. You shouldn't be upset with them either…well, maybe Rose." She smirked and I laughed. "Seriously though, they're your family, and they were just looking out for you."

"They were butting their noses in, and jumping to conclusions is what they were doing, but thanks for not taking it personally."

We lapsed into silence again, and I had to – again – break it. "Well, I should get going. We've gotta go in tomorrow, and I need my beauty sleep. You want me to walk you home, or drive you?"

"Nah. I'm just gonna grab a cab."

"Okay. I'll wait with you until you get one."

"Oh, you don't have to…"

"It's 11:30 at night, Charlotte. I'm not just going to leave you standing out here by yourself. My parents raised me better than _that_."

Luckily, the wait wasn't long. Seconds after the words were out of my mouth, a cab pulled over to the curb to drop some people off, and I held the door for her as she climbed into back.

"I'll see you in class Monday. Sorry again about Rose, and the others."

"Fuhgettaboutit," she said doing a bad mobster impression. "No harm done. Thanks for grabbing a beer with me. I'll see ya tomorrow. Night, Edward."

She smiled, and I closed the door, tapping the top of the cab to signal the driver that he could go, As the cab pulled away, Charlotte gave me a little wave. Nodding back, I walked to where I'd parked my car, and went home.

~/~

I didn't talk to Alice or the rest of them for over a week. I'd intended to not speak to them for much longer, but my sister decided to break into my apartment at dawn again, this time on a Sunday.

"Oh, shut up, Edward. Get real, it's not breaking and entering if I have a key."

"What do you want, Alice?" I asked, feeling like we'd had this same conversation one too many times over the past few months.

"I was just in the neighborhood and, y'know..." Tossing a look in my direction, she was all incredulity and annoyance. I could all but hear her unspoken insult..._asshat_. "What do you think I want? Your attention. Since you've been making such an obvious effort to avoid all of us, I figured this was the only way to get it."

She threw me some clothes that – when they hit me in the face – I didn't recognize, so I knew that they were new, and then said, "Get your ass out of bed and dressed. I brought breakfast, and I'm starving."

She walked out of my room, closing the door behind her, and I did as told because there was no use arguing with her. As I dressed in the new clothes Alice had assaulted me with, I made a mental note to get my locks changed. I knew I wouldn't do it, but acting as if I would made me feel less angry. Even with my detour to take a piss and brush my teeth, I was standing across from Alice at the breakfast bar in my kitchen in just over five minutes.

We silently split up the food, she handed me a cup of coffee, and started eating before she finally began to speak.

"Charlotte seemed nice."

"She's just my fucking lab partner, Alice," I said, instantly exasperated.

"I know, I know!" She held her hands up in surrender, and I took a deep breath, feeling slightly calmer when I let it out in a big sigh. "Sorry about Rose. You know how she can be. She's just protective of Bella, but now that she knows everything she…shit. It doesn't matter."

Alice blanched, and I stilled, a bite of food suspended in the air on the fork in front of my face.

"What's that supposed to mean, 'now that she knows everything'?"

"Nothing, Edward."

"No. Not nothing, Alice. What the fuck did that mean?"

"Can't you just let it go? You're not going to like it, and it's nothing serious anyway."

I was starting to panic, not liking what her words could mean. As much as I didn't want to know, I had to know, and I prayed that my imagination was just running away with me.

"No, I can't just let it go."

It was silent for a long while as we stared each other down.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Alice!" I bellowed, startling her. "You'd better start talking right now, or I swear to God you'll regret it."

Her face tightened and grew red with anger. "Fine, you wanna fucking know? You really want to know?"

I nodded.

"Then I'll fucking tell you, but you better fucking remember that you asked for it, when you get pissed."

"Whatever, _Malice_. Just fucking tell me."

"Bella's been seeing someone for awhile now."

My face fell as my worst fears came true, even though I knew I had no right to be upset.

_I was right; I didn't want to fucking know._

~/~

* * *

**Songs Used  
**(In Order of Appearance):

_Little Motels,_ Modest Mouse_  
Just Breathe,_ Pearl Jam_  
Dogs, _Pink Floyd  
_Just Breathe_, Pearl Jam  
_Damn It Feels Good To Be a Gangster,_ Geto Boys  
_Somebody Kill Me Please,_ Adam Sandler (from The Wedding Singer Soundtrack)

**Notes:**

1. '…_99 days and I had 99 problems_…' is a reference to a Jay Z's song 99 Problems

2. OSC exam - Objective Structured Clinical Examination is given during the winter/spring quarter of the second year, and the senior OSCE is given in specific weeks at the end of third year or the beginning of the fourth. It assesses whether the appropriate level of clinical skills have been learned.

3. Meursault is the protagonist in the book The Stranger by Albert Camus

**A/N:**  
Enormous thanks and love to V and Em for betaing for me, Char for continuing to pre-read (this fic, and especially this chapter, would be nothing without your help), and my fellow LoD girls.

As always, my eternal gratitude to all of you for reading, reviewing, and recommending this fic. I have been horrible with replies the past couple updates, and I apologize. I do read every one of them, and they provide inspiration/motivation on days that I words won't come easily.

I will be out of town for a week at the end of this month, so I won't be able to get much writing done. I apologize in advance, and again for the lateness of this. I don't like how much time elapsed between updates any more than you did, and I will make an effort not to allow it to happen again.

**Recommendations:**  
_Paper Heart _by Hezpixie  
_Summer of Salt_ by lola-pops  
_Major Misconduct _by m7077  
_For the Summer_ by camoozle  
_Disappear Here_ by h32mh32m


	3. Chapter 3 Breaking The Habit

**Disclaimer: **S. Meyer owns all recognizable characters, plots, etc. Only original content, characters, etc. belongs to author. No copyright infringement intended.

Any errors contained herein, are expressly the fault of the author and not her betas.

**Word Count:** 9898

**A/N: **I was on vacation for nine days in Manhattan, and got no writing done, and RL is a bit of a disaster right now. This chap's been done for nearly two weeks, but I didn't know that one of my beta's was on vacation and unable to get to this. My apologies for the wait. Heartfelt thanks to my awesome beta, Vanessarae (EchoesOfTwilight should be back to beta duties next chapter), and my amazing pre-reader, RedVelvetHeaven. I couldn't do it without you gals.

Thanks to all of you for reading and reviewing. I try to get to as many replies as I can, but please know that I do read and appreciate every single one of them more than I can ever express.

BH was nominated for a Glove Award. Thanks to whoever it was that did that. Vote if you want.

Finally, thanks to everyone who bid on the For the Love of Lisa auction during FGB. I've been working on my fic contribution for that, and it's turned into a short multi-chap fic. The winning team has exclusive rights to it for two months, but after that it will be posted here.

Sorry for the long A/N.

Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 3 – Breaking the Habit**

**

* * *

**

Memories consume,  
like opening the wound,  
I'm picking me apart again…  
…'cause inside I realize  
that I'm the one confused…  
...clutching my cure  
I tightly lock the door…  
…I hurt much more  
than any time before…  
…I'll paint it on the walls,  
'cause I'm the one at fault…  
…But now I have some clarity…  
…so I'm breaking the habit…

- _Breaking the Habit_, Linkin Park

~\*/~

Blasphemous.

All my denials of loving him. That he believed me though…

How could he believe me? How could anyone believe me! It felt like I had been in love with him for my entire life, even though it had only been five years. Five years spent taking whatever scraps I could get. Five years spent believing…_hoping_…he was capable of loving me, thinking that he was just afraid to say the words. Five years of having my heart broken every time it started to heal. Five years of being his rug…well, no more.

Not everything I told him was a lie. Yes, I loved him – God, I loved him with all my heart and with every fiber of my being, he was etched in my soul – but I couldn't do it anymore; I was done with him. I hadn't been lying when I said that.

The days following his unexpected spring break visit, I fell apart. I was a bloody mess, my emotions all topsy-turvy and bouncing between anger, joy, and everything in between; I just couldn't seem to get a grip on them. Of course, the comedown from all of the drugs in my system may have played a part in that. _Stranger things have happened. _ When I finally began leveling out, I forced myself to look objectively at the past five years of my life, and all that had happened between us, all the damage that we had both caused _and_ received.

After a certain point, all my introspection became too much, so I stopped. Of course, it was at this point that Angie, for some reason – maybe fear that I would slip back into my old habits, maybe something else – finally decided to get pushy, sitting me down and insisting that I give her something in the way of an explanation. I was reluctant, but after everything she had put up with since I'd moved in, I owed it to her.

I won't deny that my curiosity over finding out what she'd hinted at the morning that _he'd_ left was a motivating factor. So, despite having absolutely no right, I bargained with her – her story for mine.

~\\~

"I was a huge dork in high school."

"I don't remember you being a dork, Ange," I interjected. She shook her head, a sad smile on her face, but I continued. "I remember you being shy, but you were also genuine and willing to defend someone's honor even if it caused you trouble, and didn't exactly endear you to the bitch brigade."

"With the braces, the glasses, and the whole 'goody two shoes pastor's daughter' thing, I was definitely a bit of a dork, but it wasn't always like that.

"Growing up, Lauren, Jess…,"

"Skanky-Dee and Skanky-dumb," I interrupted again, earning a small, but this time genuine, smile from Angela.

"That's them," she agreed with a soft laugh. "We'd always been friends, but as we got older it seemed as if our friendship was based more on proximity/vicinity rather than any real amity – there just weren't a lot of options in a town that small. By the end of our junior year, they'd become out and out catty, only remembering we were friends when it suited them, and it was getting old.

"Things finally came to a head over the summer when Lauren used me as her alibi so she could sneak out to fuck some guy in Port Angeles –," _Alarms rang in my head, and I remembered Laurent's party._ "– and I failed to corroborate her story. It wasn't like I could – my parents were standing right there – but she didn't care. As far as her and the rest of her band of tramps were concerned, I had betrayed her.

"After that, I was virtually outcast. They did some pretty awful things to me, and it only got worse any time I spoke up, or otherwise drew attention to myself. After one particularly bad Friday in gym, I couldn't take it anymore. I just couldn't!

"And I planned to…but I didn't. I was in the locker room crying with no clothes – they took everything, including my towel, so I was dripping wet – and you loaned me something to wear. You let me cry on your shoulder, invited me over to Alice's for the night, and stayed by my side the entire party. You made me feel like I _mattered_ for the first time in a long time, and it meant the world to me.

"I obviously didn't go through with my plan, but I realized that I needed help and I got it. I began taking anti-depressants, and went to counseling for a while, and I've been fine since then, but if it wasn't for you…well, you saved my life. Even if you didn't know it. And I'll be forever grateful."

I was astounded and awed that something that had been so inconsequential in my life had made such a huge impact in hers.

"I don't know what to say, Ange. I…"

"You don't have to say anything, I just…well, thank you."

"You're more than welcome. I'm happy you didn't – y'know…"

Angela just nodded, and switched topics. "So…Edward Cullen? What was that about?"

"I don't even know where to start. I guess when I moved to Forks…"

I told her everything – all of it – down to the last, sordid, little detail, not caring that I sounded like a total whore-bag, and the longer I spoke, the less it became me telling her and the more it became me talking the situation out. I made more progress in those few hours that I talked to Angela than I had in the previous six and a half months. It was as if I was seeing the situation through fresh eyes, or for the first time, and I had several epiphanies.

First and foremost being, that I was every bit as guilty as, if not more so, than he was. He didn't do this to me against my will, it didn't just _happen_ to me, and I wasn't a victim. I'd sought it out, encouraged it, and actively participated…_very actively, I might add._ All of my blaming him, 'woe is me' bullshit, was just that – bullshit. I had felt like I couldn't walk away, but the truth was that I _could_ have…only I didn't. Instead, I enabled his behavior, _allowing_ him to treat me as if I was a rug. He never lied to me about who he was. I knew exactly what I was getting into when we got involved, knew he wasn't capable of being the person I wanted him to be, but I still went forward with our arrangement. How could I not be the guiltier party?

He may have been the one to deal the blows, but the real source of my pain was me. The realization made me regret sending him away, and had me picking up the phone to tell him how wrong I'd been, but I didn't. Even though I'd been wrong, it didn't change a thing. We were unhealthy for each other. Co-dependent at best, and at worst – emotional succubae feeding off each other, until we slowly drained the other dry.

This was what was best for us.

In the long run.

Best for him.

And best for me.

Even if it didn't feel like it…_and it didn't. At all._

…_get out my life why doncha, babe_…

I was proud of my newfound clarity and self-realization. I was finally being honest with myself. It did nothing to ease the ache of his loss – he still had my heart – but I was more determined than ever to get over him. Still...I kept picturing his face when I shoved him away from me after he got me off, and then subsequently tossed him out of my room. I'd never seen him look that defeated, not when I left him in the meadow the summer before, not even when he recounted what had happened in Chicago all those years ago.

…_set me free why doncha, babe_…

It was almost enough to break my resolve, but then I would remember the look on that bitch's face…_Tanya…_when she shoved past me into the Cullen's house to launch herself at him. I found a certain pleasure in making him feel a minuscule amount of the pain and heartbreak that I'd felt over the past five and a half years.

…_'cause you don't really love me, babe_…

I didn't feel any less hurt or betrayed after my realizations, but taking responsibility for your actions was supposedly the first step towards moving on. To me it felt more like a blind leap off a cliff, but it had to be taken. After all, I went to New York to get away from and get over him, but all I'd really done was bring him with me.

We had always been like two satellites orbiting each other – I countered his every little action and he did the same to mine – and here I was, twenty-five hundred miles away and still reacting to him. Edward was like a bad habit that I'd held onto for far too long – like smoking pot or partying too hard…_well, maybe not smoking pot, because that makes me chill_…_and turns me into a hungry, hungry hippo_. Either way, I was too old to be maintaining such bad habits. It was time for me to break them, and develop new, healthier ones. _Whatever the fuck those were._

…_you just keep me hanging on_…

"Bella…you know you can't keep living life the way you have been," Angela said – tentatively as if she was afraid of my reaction – when I came to the end of my _tale of woe._ "Something's gotta give, and right now…it looks like it's going to be you."

"I know, Ange. I need to start living my life, and making my choices based on what's good for me – what's going to make me happy – rather than what's going to spite Edward. I love – loved Edward, and I'm sad that we're over, but we constantly tore each other down.

"I doubt that I'll ever feel that strongly about someone again, but maybe passion that intense isn't sustainable…" I trailed off, getting lost in my head, and thinking to myself, '_Maybe there isn't enough oxygen to fuel a flame that burned that hot; we were like a supernova.' _

Knowing I needed to think, Angela let me be. She rose from the couch, kissed the top of my head and quietly slipped into her room, closing the door behind her.

As much as I'd progressed, I still didn't want to get out of bed most days, but at least I was no longer wallowing. I was pushing through the ache and depression, and getting on with my life. I still found myself having to quell sudden urges to call him up and beg his forgiveness but, hour-by-hour, and day by day, it grew easier.

~\\~

I vacillated on honoring Edward's request to call Alice, but finally, as part of my new resolve to grow the fuck up and get on with my life already, I decided to do it. It wasn't fair to punish both Alice and myself for something Edward had done. After all, she had warned me from the outset that he was trouble. She had even gone so far as to make me promise to stay away from him, and I had ignored her; I certainly couldn't hold him against her, considering.

It was nearly two weeks after Edwards's visit when I finally picked up the phone to call her, and I was terrified that she would hang up on me, if she even bothered to answer. I pulled up her name, not allowing myself time to think or wimp out, and pressed send. Listening to the ringtone, waiting for either her voice or her voicemail, the catalogue of my crimes ran through my mind, and I filled with despair.

There was no way Alice would ever forgive me. Not after the way in which I had walked out on her with so little explanation, and without even the decency of actually speaking to her when I finally did gave her the bullshit reason I'd concocted. I had taken the pussy way out, waiting until I knew it wasn't likely she would answer her phone, and leaving a message. I never called again, or even bothered texting her since I'd left. On top of it, I had changed my number without telling her, and she had no way of contacting me since I hadn't given it to her.

Even if she did manage to look past all of that…_which was unlikely_...she had to be aware of the real reason that I'd left Seattle by now. She had to know that not only had I broken the very first promise I'd made her, but I'd lied to her for years about it; I couldn't imagine her _ever _forgiving that.

As my crimes continued to add up, I fought to keep myself from hanging up the phone. _I _couldn't avoid Alice forever…_and, truthfully, I'd rather get it over with while I was on the other side of the country where she couldn't hurt me._ I was losing the battle. Just about to hang up, her voice came over the line.

"Hello, this is Alice!"

I froze with my finger on the 'Call End' button, saying nothing. Apparently, whatever froze my vocal cords affected my brain as well, because more than thirty seconds elapsed before I realized that Alice too was silent. I wasn't even sure if she was still on the line, but I didn't recall hearing a beep…_although that didn't mean anything since my sense of awareness was obviously on the fritz._ Still mute – just in case she was still there, so I could tell myself I'd tried – I slowly pulled the phone away from my ear.

I had barely removed it when I heard a gasp, and then Alice's voice asking, "Bella?"

Her voice was like kidskin leather, but behind it was a guilt-inducing hesitancy almost as if she was trying not to frighten a wild animal. Although I wasn't sure which of us she was trying to soothe. Regardless, the sound was in stark contrast to the voice in my memories, and the difference caused me to croak out her name, my mouth having suddenly gone dry.

I heard an indrawn breath, shallow and sharp, and then…_thump!_

"Alice! Alice!" I shouted, concerned that she was hurt. "Alice!"

"Bel-Bella?" she gasped between ragged sobs that rendered her sudden gush of words nearly unintelligible. "Is it really you? I can't believe… God, I've been so worried about you. I bug the Chief every chance I get, but… Well, he's apparently grown immune to my charms, because he won't tell me anything except that you're doing fine."

She paused, and I could practically see the little 'v' form between her perfectly groomed brows, and the pucker of her mouth as she tried to wrap her mind around someone being resistant to her charms. The concept was so foreign to her, that the sheer inconceivability seemed to help her calm some, and her gasping breaths gave way to shallow hiccoughs and quiet sniffles, as she seemed to regain some of her equanimity.

"Then again, he wasn't all that inclined to share since I wasn't exactly forthcoming myself regarding you and my brother." Amused with herself, a slight chuckle bubbled out, and I couldn't help the smile that graced my face. It didn't escape me that it was the first time I had genuinely smiled in ages.

"Thank God for that! He'd probably shoot him if he knew," I blurted out, before remembering it wasn't a humorous topic. Realizing what I'd said – what I now had proof that Alice knew of – I started apologizing, "Alice, I'm so… I never meant to lie to you, I…we just… We tried, but…we just…couldn't. And then, once we started, we just…couldn't stop!"

I knew I wasn't making much sense, that I should slow down, but I was frantic to explain myself before the reminder of my perfidy caused her to hang up on me. I took a deep breath to fuel the deluge of words about to spew out, secretly hoping that it would help calm me enough to at least sound rational, but it didn't help. It was as my rambling resumed, that I realized how much Alice's friendship meant to me, how much I missed her, and how terrified I was that I would lose her, and the awareness did nothing to help me express myself coherently.

Instead, I burst into tears, blubbering all of my lousy explanations into her ear, hoping she would hear how truly sorry I was.

"I – I don't expect you to forgive me – not after everything I've done wrong – but I…I hope you…you _have_ to know…I never meant to hurt you. I…we…wanted to tell you – no – we didn't want to lie to you, but you asked us – made us promise to stay away from each other, and…we tried to write it off as a one shot…"

"Bella."

"We hoped that we'd gotten it – whatever the fuck 'it' was between us – out of our systems, but we hadn't…couldn't. We tried! We did, but no… It was like – the harder we tried to fight it, the harder it was to stay away from each other. Resistance was – fucking…" I spluttered, "futile…impossible. We knew you would be furious, so we kept it…

"I just didn't want to lose you, and he…well, he didn't want to drive the wedge any further between you and him, so we decided not to tell anyone…we made our stupid – God, so stupid! – arrangement, and kept it between us. I knew it wasn't ideal, that it was wrong and probably – definitely – really stupid, but from my point of view, it was practical.

"I knew I would end up hurt – he was such a fucking player…still is – and I thought having rules set in place would give me some control, not to mention, when it inevitably blew up in my face – which it did, repeatedly – I would be able to retain at least a semblance of self-respect. I didn't want to be just another one of the Cullen Whores; I wanted to pretend that what we had – what we were doing – meant more…meant _something_. Our arrangement let me create that illusion…and, at times, I think I believed it, or at least believed that it _could_ be true."

"Bella."

"I didn't plan on…well, I didn't want to…y'know, but I did. I think I did even before we...before anything happened, I just couldn't admit it…not even to myself.

"I've had all this… For so long, all I've done is think about it all, gone over everything with a fine tooth comb, and… For the longest time, I blamed him…for everything – even for my falling in love with him – but I realized, recently actually, that we're both to blame – me, maybe even more so than him, since I allowed it."

"It doesn't make him any less at fault, but I knew he wasn't capable of giving me more than his body – of giving me his heart. I was just so desperate to have him…that I was willing to take whatever part he would give me. When we tried to end whatever we were doing, I just panicked. And so did he…I think.

"That's how we ended up with our arrangement."

"Bella!"

She'd been trying to get my attention throughout my discursive blathering, but I'd refused to acknowledge her – couldn't have if I'd wanted to…_which I didn't_. If I didn't spit it all out at once, I'd have lost either my nerve or my chance. With dismay, I realized Alice was reaching her limit of patience, so I rushed – headlong and foolishly forward trying to salvage Alice and Edward's relationship.

"Don't be angry with him, Alice – he's your brother, and the only blood relative you have left. After everything you've been through together, you can't let me or anything – anyone – come between you. And you need to forgive him, so that he'll quit blaming himself, and maybe one day actually believe that he's worthy of love."

"Bella!"

I ignored her, talking louder and more quickly instead.

"As much as he's hurt me over the years – as much as I've _allowed _him to hurt me – I don't want him to be miserable." _Maybe a little miserable._ "I want him to find happiness, to have a good life –," _only, I wanted him to find it with me…but that ship had sailed, _"– and he's never going to if you don't learn how to…I don't know, find some way to forgive him. You both need to deal with what happened, come to terms with it, and get on with your lives…together.

"He loves you so much, Ali. I would kill to have someone love me with that ferocity! Don't take for it for granted…"

I hesitated for a moment. I didn't want to – hadn't intended to – but, having barely paused long enough to draw adequate air into my lungs, and still crying, I had to get some oxygen and calm the fuck down, I was going to hyperventilate…or worse – pass out. I could already feel the beginning of the light-headedness that usually preceded it. I was so concentrated on breathing and staying conscious that I, once again, failed to realize that she was silent. I wasn't aware of it until she actually did speak, shattering the relative silence (aside from my continued blubbering) with her whispered gasp.

"He – Edward told you? You know?"

_Oh, fuck! _What had I done?

I immediately started backtracking. "He was trying to get me to open up to him. I know that sounds like an awful reason, but I swear he didn't do it with any ill-will, or…anything like that. He swore me to secrecy, and I've never told a soul. We – him and I – never really ever spoke about it, or even acknowledged that I knew, afterwards."

"When?" she demanded, her voice cold and oddly detached.

"High school."

Alice snorted. "…thinking with his dick, I see…"

"We weren't involved yet, Alice! Don't be a bitch," I snapped, disregarding the consequences. "It was the day of the blood-typing lab in Bio. He found me walking down the road in the pouring rain that night. Renee had called me all excited about being pregnant, and it was the first time I'd heard from her since she'd sent me packing. It was…I kinda…I didn't take the news too well. Edward took me back to your house – you weren't too happy I was there, by the way – hoping I would talk to him, but I refused.

"I became really withdrawn after that. No one really noticed…except Edward. He constantly watched me. I don't know – I guess he was really worried, or something…and not without reason. I honestly don't know what I'd have done if he hadn't intervened. It's not as if I was getting better. If anything, I was slipping further away."

"When…? How did I not notice?"

"You were busy, I worked, and we didn't see each other much. When we were together, I made sure that it was in a group so no one would notice."

"So when…"

"I'm getting there," I said in a rush. "You remember that night I went out with James?"

"It's a bit hard to forget…considering," she stated dryly, still sounding a bit off, but her natural curiosity seemed to be defrosting her chilliness, so I was hopeful…_ just not enough to hold my breath ._

"Right. Well, Edward wasn't happy when James asked me out, so he asked if he could show me something the next day. He woke me up early and we hiked to…this place he wanted to share with me. We talked. He told me that, in general, he didn't trust people – not that he's had good reason to – but he trusted me, then he made sure I knew the gravity of what he was about to disclose, and he told me why you really left Alaska.

"Afterwards, I told him about Renee – all the things she'd done, how selfish she was, how she'd never really been a mother to me, how she resented me – everything, and he just listened. It helped – talking to him – more than I thought it would. I'd always been too shy, too worried about being judged and too distrustful to let someone in…to expose the real me, but after Edward…" I sighed, trying to put it into words.

"…had so – I don't know, bravely given me his trust…? No, it was more than that. He'd literally put his life, and that of your family's, in my hands, and then bared himself to me. He didn't pull any punches, or try to downplay his part in all of it. If anything, he took on more blame than he deserved. I can't explain what it meant to me, Al. It was one of the most profoundly significant moments of my life…and it saved me when I was drowning.

"I realize how ridiculously, 'poor me' that must sound. It's not like I ever went through anything even remotely as traumatic as you. Getting hit on by Renee's boy-toys and her tendency to be too aggressive with her punishments hardly count."

"Bella, you don't have to justify the way you felt – feel – to anyone, especially not me. I had loving and supportive parents who doted on me, and an incredible family, so despite what I went through, I'm really lucky. Don't ever discount the way you feel. He still shouldn't have fucking told you, though."

"I know he shouldn't have told me, but getting pissed at him about it isn't going to help. What's done is done. He already thinks you hate him and…fuck! Forget I said that. I should have just kept my mouth shut. I swear I've never said a word to anyone, not even my father…," I almost choked on my tongue when I realized what I'd just said, and I shouted in alarm, "Especially not my father! Fuck!"

The conversation was going swimmingly. _Cue sarcastic eye roll._ If I hadn't worried that just thinking about it would jinx me, I would have been certain that I couldn't possibly shove my foot any further in my mouth, but I was worried and wasn't about to tempt fate. _Or Murphy and his stupid laws, because they too have a habit of biting me in the ass._ It was a good thing I didn't.

"Bells, stop!" she shouted, her piercing voice in my ear causing me to jump and zip my lips.

We were both silent for a long moment, our heavy breaths – proof of how worked up we'd both become – were the only sounds. Finally managing to regain control of myself, Alice's sob came through the phone, breaking my heart.

"God, Alice! I'm so sorry…I shouldn't have brought it up. I never meant to upset you…" I would have continued, but Alice didn't let me.

"H-he…Edward thinks I hate him?"

"Um…" I wasn't sure what to say.

"Don't sugarcoat it, Isabella Marie Swan!"

"Well, kind of…I guess," I reluctantly admitted.

"I can't believe he would… I don't hate him!" She sounded incredulous, but there was the faintest bit of doubt poisoning her conviction.

"Don't you, Alice?" I said without thinking. _Now you've done it, Swan. It's been nice knowin' ya. _

Alice's angry huff into the phone was the equivalent of Mount Vesuvius blowing its top – she was livid.

"What _the fuck_ is that supposed to mean? Some fucking friend you are! Well, you've already proven that, so… Guess I shouldn't really be surprised, should I?"

I had no right to get angry, or defensive – she wasn't saying anything that wasn't true, I really _was _a shitty friend – but that is the beauty of defensive anger – it allows you to not only act irrationally, but to feel justified for doing so.

"I may be a shitty friend, but it wasn't intentional! You've purposely been a shitty sister for years, and never once showed any remorse! With the way you're always talking down to him, and treat him with so much animosity, _no one_ would ever accuse you of liking him..." My anger quickly deflated, I trailed off.

Weariness swept over me. I was tired…tired of being so mad…tired of being so sad…I was tired of it all. I didn't want to fight anymore. I shouldn't have said what I'd said, but – just as Alice hadn't said anything that wasn't true – neither had I. _Well, not entirely._

She did love her brother, and I knew that. I mean, he wasn't only her flesh and blood, he was her twin. She just harbored a hell of a lot of resentment, and even disgust for him. Lapsing, once again, into silence, I allowed my mind to drift. I didn't know which of us would cave first, but I was determined it wouldn't be me; I was too irked. _Truth hurts, don't it?_

Surprisingly, Alice caved first. _And I checked to see if Hell had frozen over, or the Rapture had come at last. Neither seemed to have occurred. _

"You're wrong, you know," she said softly. "I do love Edward – I really do – and I always will…but I don't like who he's become, or some of the things he's done, and I don't agree with many of his choices. But as much as I want to deny that it, I can't say I've let go of all of my anger over the bullshit from our childhood. I'm sorry for…"

"No, Alice, I'm sorry! You were right – I have been an awful friend. I'm so sorry – more than you know – for everything. I don't expect you, or anyone else, to forgive me, but I desperately hope…I don't know what I would do if I lost you."

"You won't lose my…fuck!" The pain in Alice's sudden non-sequiter filled me with worry just when I had started to allow myself to the feel some relief.

"Alice?"

"I'm sorry. Just – just give me minute." She was crying again, and I was thoroughly confused, but I waited. Finally…

"You won't lose my friendship, Bella…but I may lose yours..."

"Oooo-kay?" I replied, and then went silent. I managed to keep my mouth shut as she spoke…_mostly_.

~\\~

I didn't say a word for several minutes, just processing everything, when Alice finished telling me her _involvement_ in the mess that was Edward and I.

"Bella!" Alice whined, tears imminent. "Please say _something_. Scream, yell, get mad, get sad – I don't care! Just say something. Please!" And with that, she broke down.

…_and if you're mad, get mad, don't hold it all inside…come on and talk to me now_...

Hearing sobs wrack my best friend's body, I wanted to tell it was okay, that I forgave her…but I didn't know if it was…if I did.

…_and hey, what you got to hide? I get angry too, but I'm a lot like you_...

"I just need a minute, Al. I have to think," I said all frustrated and confused and hurt.

…_when you're standing at the crossroads, don't know which path to choose_...

I paced around my room while Alice's tears ran their course, looking to the walls for answers they didn't hold. My mind unfocused and bouncing around like a Super Ball…_Wham-O!_...I was still silent and pacing long after her shuddering breaths smoothed out and her breathing returned to normal. It was still several more minutes before I finally managed to form a coherent thought, and then a few more, before I was able to put those thoughts together to form a cohesive sentence.

…_let me come along, 'cause even if you're wrong_...

"Alice, that you would do that – I'm really hurt…"

…_I'll stand by you_…

"I never meant to hurt either of you, Bells! I did it because I didn't _want _you to get hurt,but I should have just stayed out of it…" she interrupted, saying it so quickly that it was nearly unintelligible.

…_take me in into your darkest hour_…

"Al…Al…Alice!" I shouted, trying to stem the tide. When she stopped speaking, and I was sure I had her attention, I continued. "I'm really hurt, _but_…I guess I see where you were coming from."

As I took a deep breath, I heard her sigh with what I assumed was relief, and I hated having to burst her bubble.

"Let me finish – I understand, but it doesn't make what you did any less horrible. You should have just stayed out of it! I mean –" A thought popped into my head, and I stopped midsentence.

…_and I'll never desert you_…

"Huh," I thought, unaware that I'd said it out loud too.

"What?"

"Hmm? Oh! Nothing, just…thinking."

"Okay," she said softly, adding, "Take your time," but I wasn't listening.

Thoughts in order, I cleared my throat, causing the awaiting Alice to suck in a breath from the knowledge that my verdict was imminent.

"You should have stayed out of it," I reiterated, "but you didn't. I'm fairly certain though, that Edward and I would have fucked things up no matter what, and…who knows? Had you not interfered, it may have blown up in our faces a long time ago with an even bigger bang. I don't even want to know how messy it would've been had you all known what was going on with us.

"I'm not thanking you or anything, and it's going to take me a while to trust you again, but…"

…_I'll stand by you_...

Alice's squeal cut off the rest of what I had to say – something about trust being a two way street, and it taking her a while to trust me again – but when she was done, I didn't bother finishing. I knew she knew.

The rest of our conversation was awash in news from back home – who was doing what, _who was doing whom,_ how the wedding planning was going, what our friends were up to, and bits of Forks gossip. Not once did Alice mention anything about Edward, and it took all my self-control, and then some, to keep from asking. When we finally hung up with the promise to speak again soon, I collapsed onto my bed, relieved to have my best friend back in my life.

~\\~

I woke up to the annoying trill of my cell phone, disoriented from sleep, and it took a moment to realize what the noise was. Diving across the bed, I made a mad grab for it, hoping to catch it before it went to voicemail.

"Hello," I answered, my voice gravelly still.

"Hi, Bella?" asked an unfamiliar masculine voice.

"This is. Um…who's this?"

He chuckled, the warm sound actually causing a small smile. "Um…it's Jacob. Jacob Black. You, uh – obviously weren't expecting me to call." He groaned. "I am _so _sorry about this; it seems our fathers are still conspiring like two old hens. Charlie gave me your number, told me to give you a call, and that you'd been asking about me, but that's obviously not true."

"Oh…" I didn't know what to say. "Um, gee…I – how are you?" _Oh...um...gee? _Brilliant, Bella_._

"I'm good. Look – you don't have to do this. I'm sorry to have bothered you. I can't believe they suckered me into playing along with their matchmaking games. I mean, I knew last summer when I never heard from you again that you were giving me the brush-off. You must think I'm a real tool for falling…"

Guilt washed over me and, trying to ease my conscience, I cut him off. "No, not at all! It's nice to hear from you. I'm sorry about that – y'know, not calling and all. It wasn't anything you did." _Facepalm_. "I'm aware of how horribly cliché that sounds, but it's true. I was in a –weird place then. It was just – boy trouble. You know how it is…"

"Not personally…" he teased, drawing attention to my faux pas, and causing me to actually smack the heel of my hand against my forehead this time…repeatedly, "but, I kind of got that impression. The guy in the bar?"

_Wha…?_ _How the…?_

"How the hell…? Oh, my God! I am so sorry! I'm mortified. I can't even imagine what you must have thought. I didn't think you knew – you never let on… It was that obvious, huh?"

He laughed loudly, a full on belly laugh and, through my shame and embarrassment, I was surprised by the smile that tugged at the corners of my mouth. "Like glass. You couldn't keep your eyes off each other, and there was so much tension that it was a little hard to breathe. Besides that…," he paused, torturing me by drawing it out, building the suspense, "…it usually doesn't take 25 minutes to use the restroom, especially not in a fairly empty bar."

_Had I really been gone that long?_

He didn't sound quite finished, so I waited, cringing – whether from the remembrance of my slutty behavior or from what took place in that bathroom, I'm not sure. Luckily, he spoke before I had the chance to ponder it too much. "Plus, you looked all post-coital and disheveled when you came back to the bar and, might I say, it's a good look for you."

Blushing a little…_although secretly flattered, not gonna lie._..I let out a groan. Admittedly, and hating myself for it, I got some kind of voyeuristic thrill from hearing a third party's impression of Edward and myself. My fascination was sick, and unhealthy, and…fuck if I didn't want to crawl inside his head and watch it on IMAX. I was enthralled, and couldn't have stopped listening if I'd tried.

"He seemed pretty torn up and aggravated when he came back from your little tryst, but you should have seen his face when you pulled that, 'You wanna get out of here,' line. It would have been funny if he hadn't looked like he'd just had his heart crushed. I didn't wanna feel bad for the guy since he just totally broke the man code by shamelessly hooking up with my date – not to mention also upsetting you – but dude looked a wreck.

"I don't think I've ever seen such an odd mix of dejection, fury, and self-loathing in my life." I snorted at that. _Self-loathing? Yup, that'd be Edward._ "I don't know what he did to piss you off, but you certainly put him in his place."

I felt a familiar stinging in my eyes, and a burning in my chest when he described Edward, yet the picture he had painted was so contrary to what I remembered of that night that I had difficulty suspending my disbelief. _Edward couldn't have been upset. _I pushed it aside, choosing to focus instead on the masterful parting, 'Fuck you,' I'd pulled off. Nothing actually happened between Jake and me – he walked with me to my apartment, gave me a peck on the cheek, and asked if he could call me sometime. To which I replied, "I'll call you," and never did – but Edward didn't know that Jake was a perfect gentleman.

Reminded of how I'd treated him, I felt like a huge asshole once again, and apologies starting pouring from my mouth. "Look, I'm sorry I never called you. I should have been straight with you, I just hate disappointing people, and it had been such a shitty evening – uh, not because of you or anything. It just was, and I – I should have handled things better…or something. Sorry."

"Hey, relax! Don't beat yourself up – I get it. So how are things with you and Mr. Pretty Boy?"

"Mr. Pretty Boy? You call him 'Mr. Pretty Boy'?" I asked with a laugh, not even trying to evade the question that I didn't want to answer; I was just so amused.

"Well, actually – I call him 'Mr. Brooding Emo Pretty Boy', but…yeah, Mr. Pretty Boy for short."

I had to laugh, because that was Edward in a nutshell. It was interesting that Jake had so easily pegged him – _not that kind of pegging, although that would be fuckhot_ – after only seeing him once, and from across a bar.

"So…did you two crazy kids manage to work things out?" Something about…okay, _everything _about the way he asked the question – too nonchalantly – said he was fishing for information.

"Um, I'm here," I answered, somewhat taciturnly but, conveniently oblivious to my blatant lack of desire to discuss it, he wasn't letting it go.

"And he's – not?" he inquired deliberately.

"Nope," I replied, annoyed, but without popping my 'p' because Alice hadn't been around for months, and I was finally speaking like a normal person again.

"That's too bad." _He didn't sound like it was._ "I'm really sorry." _He wasn't._ "You two were…intense…just so aware of each other even when you were orbiting the perimeter of one another's gravitational pull."

His pronouncement, catching me so off guard, cut through me, and the pain I'd been successfully holding at bay since my crying jag in Angela's arms the morning I'd thrown Edward out of my room sliced through me and stole my breath. _Not gonna cry. Not gonna cry. Not gonna cry._

"It's no surprise that I never stood a chance with you," he said, seemingly finished.

"Well, that was then. Things are different now." I don't know what made me say it, and I wished I wouldn't have, but I had and I couldn't take it back; the words were hanging in the air.

I needed to put forth more of an effort to move on from Edward – one that didn't involve random, drunken hookups, preferably – but so far I hadn't put myself out there. I didn't know if I could, but I had to try. Jake seemed like a safe choice, and I still felt horrible for the way I had treated him during, and especially _after_, our only date. I was going to do this, I was going to stop being such a whiny bitch, and actually _do_ something about getting over Edward. _Be bold, Bella. _I wasn't sure why I was acting like such a pussy – it wasn't very likely that he'd reject me – but still.

It was time to put up or shut up, so I put it out there…_he could send it back if he wanted._

"Look, I feel just awful for that whole date-thing. Why don't you let me make it up to you by buying you a cup of coffee…or something? It might even get the wannabe Emmas off our backs for a bit."

"So you're sayin' I have a chance now?" I could tell he was joking…_I hoped_…and I delivered my line perfectly.

Totally deadpan, I shot back, "One in a million."

"Well, Mary Samsonite, what are you doing right now…or is now too soon?"

"Um…" I thought about it. It was too soon, but doing it 'spur of the moment'-like, was probably a good idea; I wouldn't be able to cancel. "Now should be fine. Give me an hour? I just woke up. Where'd you wanna meet?"

The conversation broke down as we discussed where to meet up – debating this place or that, uptown or down – and somehow coffee turned into breakfast, and we were all set to meet in Harlem at Amy Ruth's for the world's best waffles. I was actually looking forward to it – not in a date-type way, because it wasn't a date – but it might be nice to have a friend besides Ange, especially someone from home. I missed home and, honestly, I missed Edward too, but I didn't want to miss either.

Jake had made me really smile, and if he could do that over the phone, I couldn't help wondering what it would be like when we were face-to-face. _This would be good for me._

~\\~

Breakfast with Jake was followed midweek by coffee with Jake, which was followed the next week by two '_accidental'_ run-ins at Butler..._how accidental could him being at Columbia's main library have been since he went to NYU?_…and a day at the park with him and Angela, along with Ben and a few of Jake's friends. Before I knew it, Jake and I were talking on the phone nearly every day, and seeing each other at least four days a week. Of course, our fathers were beyond thrilled when they _somehow_…_Jake_…found out about it despite the fact that we were only friends. I was still undecided. Even 'friends' felt like I was betraying Edward.

Jake was nice. Funny. Fun. A good friend. He understood that I was sometimes moody and withdrawn, and he would carry on the conversation for both of us. Sometimes in his presence, I actually felt happy, and then he would go and so would the feeling. I was aware it wasn't healthy to feel that way, but at least I was trying. I was trying not to want things that were bad for me, and I was trying not to rely on Jake to make me feel normal, but it was so…_trying._ It was easier just to be, so I let Jake be my friend and basked selfishly in his warmth.

I saw the knowing, smug looks of the people around us, and I knew what they thought, what it looked like. It looked as if we were in a relationship, or at least stumbling around on the edges of one, but they were wrong. We were just friends. We didn't kiss or touch in any manner that implied we were more than that, and Jacob knew where we stood…_I thought_…_hoped_. I knew he wouldn't be averse to being more than that, but I had been perfectly clear with him from the start that I wasn't looking for, couldn't conceive of, nor handle more than friendship, and he said he was fine with that.

Still, there were times when I felt as if I were leading him on and, occasionally, the guilt over knowingly taking everything he offered without giving him anything in return would tear me up inside. It didn't stop me from taking it though. Deep down inside, I knew it was wrong, but I refused to acknowledge it.

~\\~

Eventually, it became nearly impossible to ignore that Jake wanted more from me than I was willing or capable of giving, but I still did. I acted as if my willful denial and disbelief could keep a thing from being true and, when it didn't, I could still have plausible deniability on my side. I never thought I would have to use it, but eventually, it all came to a head and so…eventually, I did use it.

The party had started out fun, but then Jake had to go and ruin it with his new overprotective, big brother bullshit. I couldn't even talk to anyone without him acting like a douche. I had simply asked a passing guy where the bathroom was, and Jake acted as if the poor kid was going to steal my virtue…_not that I had any._ In a huff, I stormed off, and snuck out to the quiet and solitude of the dimly lit backyard…_really, it was little more than a pad of cracked concrete with weeds growing in the cracks, and a chimera in the back corner._

The door opened behind me, and I didn't need to look to know who it was. "What the fuck, Bella?" he asked, angry and non-specifically. "I've been looking all over the place for you! The hell were you thinking coming out here alone? Something could have happened to you."

He paced back and forth, back and forth, while I – stunned by his outburst and not sure how to reply – stared at him, trying to comprehend what in the hell was going on. I tried to remain calm, but my earlier irritation, combined with the frustration that had been building in me for a while, bubbled until it boiled over, and out spilled my vitriol.

"I'm not a little girl, Jake! In fact, if my memory serves correct, I'm older than you are. I can take care of myself! What the fuck is your problem lately?"

He stopped his agitated pacing and, fists still tightly clenching his hair, began tugging on it hard enough that I was certain it was causing him pain. His shoulders – drawn tightly back with his held breath – relaxed with the large gust of air he exhaled, and his hands released his hair. I relaxed infinitesimally as my own unconsciously-held breath puffed out of me seconds after his, only to immediately suck in a ragged gasp, and stiffen once more as Jake whirled sharply around to face me.

My eyes involuntarily closed, and in the time it took to blink, he had crossed the distance between us. Standing before me, his hands moved to my shoulders, frantically grasping them in an almost too firm grip.

Keeping me immobile in front of him, he held my alarm-widened eyes with his desperate, almost hopeless ones.

_Please, no…let me be wrong. Don't let this be what I think this is going to be._

"What is this, Bella?" he asked in a tone that was oddly gentle despite its volume, his head rotating on his shoulders as if he was looking around, but without taking his eyes from mine.

_No. Don't do this, Jake, please don't do this. _

"What is this," he questioned again, a certain wildness that almost had me unhinged, creeping into his eyes.

_No. No. No!_

My veins became refrigerant lines, filling with Freon-like dread as panic washed over me, and I futilely continued chanting…_no, don't do this, no_…in my head.

"Bella, you gotta let me know…am I ever gonna stand a chance at being more to you than just the guy you use as a platonic fill-in for Edward, as his _placeholder_?"

'Stop!' I wanted to say, but instead I froze, all slack-jawed and gaping unattractively. I was so blindsided by his accusations and the fact that he could think so _little _of me – I just didn't know how to react. I wanted to scream at him, and cry all at the same time, but was incapable of doing either. The disparity of my emotions caused my mind to go blank. I _wanted _to react – desperately – to do something…_anything_…but all I could do was stare, my jaw working soundlessly.

He pressed on, continuing in a rush before I could even manage to sputter. I wanted nothing more than to close my eyes and block out his voice so I didn't have to see the earnest desire in both his eyes and the taut lines of his body, or hear it in his words, but I couldn't. My only reaction was a very blatant non-reaction. It was like watching a bullet coming straight at your head – painfully aware of every passing nanosecond and nanometer, but unable to do anything about it, or really even acknowledge it.

"I'm only asking because… Fuck, Bella! I can't keep quiet anymore – I've tried, and I just can't. You have to know – I mean how could you not –," he raised his arms slightly at his sides, and his head dropped backwards into his shoulder shrug, his fevered eyes faintly mimicking the motion.

"You have to know that I want more than just friendship with you? We're perfect for each other? We share so many common links, it's almost like it was fated."

He was so adamant and, even though I knew it wasn't true, for his sake, I found myself wanting it to be. _One person's 'fated' was another's 'settling for less'. _But wanting it to be would never make it so.

His voice softened, as he stroked and then cupped my cheek. "Being with me would be natural…as easy as breathing, Bells."

He paused again, looking down as if he was afraid to meet my eyes, before continuing. "I have to know if this – we, us –," he gestured rapidly between us, both hands at the level of his chest, '– is going somewhere?"

_Natural? _

_As easy as…?_

"Or…am I always going to be your Guy Friday – only kept around to make you smile, keep the wolves at bay when you go out, and provide you with an intimidating excuse when you have to turn down the few dumbasses that ask you out in spite of me?"

"You think that we're per…?" I started, trailing off, no longer interested when the rest of his words sunk in…and then I got angry. "You think that I…_use_ you, Jake, for a…? How could you say that? You're my best friend, and _he _has nothing to do with us!"

"I didn't mean it like th…"

"Oh, you didn't, huh? Didn't mean it like that? How the fuck did you mean it then?" I ignored his attempt to defend himself, or to answer the questions I was asking. I didn't care what he said, didn't want to hear it. "Why can't we just be friends?

"Why can't… Why does it have to be more, or nothing at all? Is that what this is, Jake? An ultimatum? Some fucking friend you've turned out to be! I'm not ready to be in a relationship yet – what I need is a friend – but that's not good enough, is it? Why can't that be enough for you?" I looked away, wanting to say more, to be clearer, but I didn't have it in me. I was tired…_so tired._

"So are you saying that you're not ready to be with anyone, or…that you're not ready for that with me?" His hesitance was _odd_ and unexpected coming from the self-assured, jubilant boy…er, man that I'd come to know so well, despite the short length of our acquaintance. It made me want to comfort him.

However, it did nothing for my inability to answer him. My indecision was so loud on my face that it screamed at him; I didn't know what to say. Would I ever want more? With him? _With anyone?_ I didn't have the answers he wanted. The only thing I was sure of was not wanting to lose him. In a moment of selfishness, I lied…_possibly_…_maybe_…_I don't know _(_I lied_).

"With anyone?" I hoped he didn't hear the question mark that I'd inadvertently…_I didn't just wear my emotions on my sleeve_…tacked on.

He stared at me skeptically, but the door to the courtyard was shoved open before he could call me out.

"Oh, fuck! Hey, sorry man. Uh, carry on," said one of Jake's nameless, faceless…_oratorical genius_…frat-brothers, clearly getting the wrong idea. Based solely upon our proximity, the weight of the summer air made heavier from the tension between us, the confrontation-induced heavy breaths we were drawing, and my flushed skin, I couldn't really blame his conjecture; I would have thought the same, but that didn't mean I wasn't angered by it.

A part of me – whose continued existence I wasn't aware of – still clung to the erroneous belief that I owed Edward my loyalty, and wanted to chase after him, and set him straight…_it wouldn't have been the first time I'd done so_… but I wasn't going to waste such a serendipitous intrusion on the standoff between Jake and I. Instead, I pounced, utilizing the interruption to distract him from maintaining the course our conversation had clearly been heading.

"Please take me home, Jake. I'm tired. Can we please just talk about this later? It's blisteringly hot, and more than a little unpleasant, I just want to go to home, shower, and sleep."

The urge to argue was apparent in his hardened eyes and the tense set of his jaw, so I murmured _please _again, and he relented, driving me home in silence. Despite my protests, he walked me to my apartment door, a sigh of relief escaping me as I opened it a crack. _Never count your chickens before they hatch, though._ My muttered, 'G'night, Jake,' never made it past my lips, because he grabbed my arm, halting me just as I was about to slip inside.

Without warning, he yanked me towards him, my breath hitching as I pressed to his concrete chest, and his arm, like a steel girder, wrapped around my lower back holding me unyieldingly in place. As his other hand moved in slow motion towards my face, my eyes widened in abject horror, and the already too hot, dirty, and deserted hallway of my building grew exponentially more stifling.

Then he kissed me – his lips hot where they pressed against my own, and his tongue wet as it slipped into my mouth to tangle with mine – and all the air in both the narrow corridor and my lungs disappeared. I was stunned into passivity – not resisting him, but not participating either. My eyes were still open, staring at his open-book face that held no trace of humor or teasing on its planes. His mouth left mine just as suddenly as it had appeared, and he shoved me through my apartment door saying he was willing to wait, he'd give me time, but he'd use it convincing me that we were right together. _Meant to be._

"Just leaving you with something to think about," he said, then he was gone, and I remained…staring at my closed door, with my hand pressed to my lips.

I still couldn't react – didn't know how to. Locking the door with numb fingers, I mechanically – on autopilot – walked down the hallway to my room. I fell onto my bed fully clothed, thoroughly confused, and slightly sickened by my non-reaction. My stomach churned, and my emotions broiled under the surface of my too-calm façade as I tried to sort myself out of the mess Jake had just made of me.

Laying there, remembering the feel of his lips and his body, I was disgusted over the way it left me feeling alternately hot and cold. My body reacted to the memory, and I had to remind myself that I had no control over my physical response – struggled to convince myself that it didn't make me into the whore that I felt I was. I turned my mind off – if I ignored it, maybe it would go away. Things always looked brighter in the morning…_right? _

Still unsure as to what had transpired between us, and unable or unwilling to process how I felt about any of it regardless, I fell into a deep slumber. While unconscious, my mind mixed the faces of Edward and Jacob – along with my feelings for them both. By morning, my head was a nonsensical mélange of agitation, shame, guilt, anger, and bitter anguish all twisted up with the memory of Jake's kiss. The miasma of it all hung over my head and, in the days and weeks to come, would haunt my waking hours and stalk me in my dreams.

~\*/~

**Songs Used*  
(In Order of Appearance):**

_You Keep Me Hangin' On, The Supremes  
I'll Stand by You, The Pretenders_

_*All songs are the property of their respective owners. No copyright infringement intended.  
_

**Notes:  
**1. Butler – Butler Library is the largest library in Columbia's library system. It is the home of the Rare Book and Manuscript Library, containing more than 600,000 rare books and 28 million manuscripts, and also houses the world-famous Oral History Research Office and collection both of which would be of special interest to Bella's chosen field of study.

2. '…_he could send it back if he wanted.'_ – reference to a line from the movie Anchorman: The Legend of Ron Burgundy.

**Rec's-**

_The Wedding Party _by spanglemaker9  
_Dawn of Day_ by sunflower-queen  
_Once More, With Feeling_ by What'sMyNomDePlume  
_Porcelain Heart_ by queenofgrey  
_The Tragical Tale of Edward and His Riley_ by Americnxidiot – a fucklarious one-shot

**Thoughts on the chapter? I'd love to hear them. **


	4. Chapter 4 It Could Be Sweet

**Disclaimer: **S. Meyer owns all recognizable characters, plots, etc. Only original content, characters, etc. belongs to author. No copyright infringement intended.

Any errors contained herein, are expressly the fault of the author and not her betas.

**Word Count:** 11,356

**A/N: **This chapter will bring us up to date with where Edwards chapter left off, putting us somewhere around the beginning of July.

As always, thanks to V for betaing, and RedVelvetHeaven for pre-reading. Neither of you are afraid to tell me, 'No, fix it,' or, 'I don't like it,' or, 'You can do better.' It's because of your refusal to pander to my ego that this story is better than I hoped. I couldn't do it without you.

And RedVelv, thank you for making me fight so fiercely in defense of my vision. You could have just agreed with me, but by making me really examine things, you kept me from making some grievous errors.

Thanks to everyone who reads and reviews. Your words provide motivation and, at times, inspiration. I'm still slowly working through review replies. I apologize in advance if I miss anyone.

Enjoy.

* * *

**Chapter 4 – It Could Be Sweet**

**

* * *

**

I don't want to hurt you  
For no reason have I but fear  
And I ain't guilty of the crimes you accuse me of  
But I'm guilty of fear  
I'm sorry to remind you  
But I'm scared of what we're creating…  
…It could be sweet  
Like a long forgotten dream  
And we don't need them to cast the fate we have  
Love don't always shine thru…  
…But the thoughts we try to deny  
Take a toll upon our lives  
We struggle on in depths of pride  
Tangled up in single minds…  
…You don't get something for nothing, turn back  
Mmmm, gotta try a little harder  
It could be sweet

-Portishead

~\*/~

The night of the party wasn't to be the last time Jake would force the issue of our relationship status. It became rote; the routine revisited so often that I began to feel as if we were stuck in a never-ending cycle…_or a really shitty remake of Groundhogs Day, just – y'know – without the groundhog…or Bill Murray._

I had thought not speaking to him for a while would get my point across, but he was either exceptionally dense or just wasn't going to take no for an answer, because it hadn't phased him a bit. When I finally caved, agreeing to hang out, he stood too close, was too possessive, too clingy, and kissed my cheek with a little too much familiarity. It had been so unexpected that my only reaction had been to stiffen beside him. He knew I didn't like making a scene, and he used it against me. I stood there, fake smile on my face, fuming and trying to decide whether or not storming off would be considered an overreaction, or draw too much attention. I let it go.

Later, as we chatted – by 'we' I mean mostly 'he' – with a group of his friends, he draped his arm casually over my shoulders in a familiar gesture, but in light of the revelations from the night that he kissed me, it bathed the move, along with all of our past interactions, in a new light. His arm grew heavier the longer I remained in place by his side, eventually becoming so overbearing that I felt trapped beneath its weight, and unable to breathe.

"I have to use the restroom," I said, shaking his arm off, and walking quickly away.

I was angry with him, and my ire only grew with each passing day, and each new incident. It was enraging that he wouldn't respect my wishes, that he wouldn't let go of the idea of us being in a relationship, that he insisted on playing these games with me, and the longer it went on, the more persistent he became. I began to resent him a little for trying to force something that I just didn't feel, or didn't _want _to feel – 'You do want this, Bells, you just don't know it yet.'

I could have walked away from him, cut him out of my life the way I had Edward – hell, I probably should have – but I didn't…for so many reasons, most of which I refused to admit even to myself.

Some of it was that I didn't want to lose the good friend that I kept hoping he would remember to be, because I would be alone if I did. I still had Angela, but not really. She seemed to have breathed a sigh of relief when Jake started coming around, happy to no longer have to bear the burden of me alone. For the first few weeks Jake hung around, it was the three of us – Angela present, but not participating too much.

She watched him, watched me, watched us, watched for _something_ and, once she saw it – proof that I was no longer headed down the destructive path that I had been in the Spring, that Jake could be trusted with me – she was around less and less until she was rarely around, and miles cropped up between us. I wasn't angry; how could I be? For months, she'd all but put her life on hold, worrying and feeling as if she had to watch over me, and she did so without ever once complaining.

She never said anything to me, but I know it strained her relationship with Ben, whom she had been dating since our undergrad days at the U. She hated leaving me home alone to spend time with Ben, and while Ben was willing to spend time at our place, even I admit that I wasn't fun for any of us – them or me – to be around. Debbie Downer would have been better company than me; I was more like Suicidal Suzie or Melissa Melancholy. So, it hadn't surprised me at all that once she was able, she would want to be with Ben, making up for lost time, and if Jake stopped coming around – despite not being around much – she would know, and she would feel obligated to me.

She would once again put her life on hold – willingly risking drowning – just to keep my head above water. I didn't deserve her, and I wouldn't let her to risk that. As selfish as I could be, even I couldn't be that much so. Instead, I resigned myself to just dealing with Jake's advances.

The only thing that made it bearable was my renewed relationship with Alice and, shortly thereafter, Rose. I couldn't talk to either of them about Jake – especially not Alice, considering – but I had to mention him, explaining that he was the son of Charlie's best friend who I'd played with during my summers as a child, and that we'd reconnected.

Of course, Rosalie would have to remember and ask, "Didn't Charlie force you into going on a date with him at the beginning of last summer?"

"Um…" I answered reluctantly. Reluctant because we were on a Skype chat with Alice…a video chat.

"Oh, yeah! I remember that! You never called him again though. How come? Was it a bad date? Was he a jerk? Did…"

Alice was bombarding me with questions, not letting me get a word out, and I finally just lost it. In one big, rushed, run on sentence, I blurted out, "I never called him again because I fucked your brother in the bathroom of the bar we decided to grab a drink at and your brother was a complete douchebag afterwards and not only did I feel really bad about doing something like that while I was on a date with him, I didn't want to be reminded of what had happened with your brother, so I never called him again!"

_Oh, my fuck! Tell me I didn't?_

"That's a good reason, I guess," Rose conceded dryly, looking shocked and mildly disgusted with me. _Oh, I did. _ I couldn't even look at Alice, afraid of what I would find on her face.

"I gotta go," I said, and ended the call. I avoided both of them – especially Alice – and Skype for the next week. When I resumed speaking with them, my inappropriate overshare was the elephant in the virtual room. Rose was dying to bring it up, but it was apparent that Alice had put a permanent embargo on the subject, and Rose didn't have the balls to defy her…not while she was helping plan Rose's wedding. Regardless, the incident – and by association, Jake – was never mentioned again, which suited me just fine.

~\\~

The girls came to see me for Memorial Day weekend – arriving on Thursday, and flying back out Tuesday morning – and I hadn't realized how much I missed them until I saw them at the airport. I'd forgotten other things too, like just how exhausting Alice could be, but by Saturday afternoon, I remembered. We had been going non-stop since their arrival, and when we stopped by their hotel to drop off the bags from our morning excursions, Rose and I were so fucking exhausted – not to mention hung over – that we were forced to stage a coup; we simply couldn't go on.

"Alice, we need a break! My blisters have blisters!" Rose announced, collapsing on one of the shopping bag-covered beds.

"Yeah, Al! I haven't walked this much the entire time I've lived here combined," I added, and it was true…_probably. _

"But guuuuuys…" Alice whined, doing her pouty-face thing. It wasn't working.

"Sorry, Al. Your voodoo doesn't work when your victims are barely conscious."

Alice continued to whine, but Rose wasn't letting her get her way, thank fuck.

"Don't let us slow you down, Mario."

"Mario?"

"Andretti?" Rose elaborated, but Alice continued to look at her dumbly, causing her to roll her eyes. "Doesn't matter. Anyway, it's barely noon, why don't you go attack Madison Avenue for an hour or two, and we'll meet you around three for a late lunch, and whatever else."

She gave pouting one more shot, and when it didn't work, caved.

"Fine! I'm going, but only because Madison Avenue waits for no woman. Later, whores!" she called on her way out.

"Finally, some peace and quiet! Now spill."

"I have no clue what you are talking about, Rose, and I thought you wanted some peace and quiet?"

"Don't bullshit a bullshitter, Bells. Besides, you're a piss poor liar. I already know all about Assward, and I'm not even going to say I told you so." _Alice, I assumed? _ "I want to know what's going on with that Jacob-guy? He's built. If I was single, and he wasn't head over heels for you, I'd tap that…so long as he kept his mouth shut, but I've got ways of keeping his mouth busy."

"Rosalie Lillian Hale! What would your _fiancé _say if he heard that?"

"Stop trying to change the subject."

"Nothing is going on between Jake and me! We're friends. That's all!" I snapped in annoyance.

"Mhmm. Does Jake know this?"

"I've made it perfectly clear to him that I'm only interested in his friendship! Despite what you seem to be implying, I'm not a cocktease or a whore, all right?"

"Jesus, Bella! Sensitive much? I wasn't implying anything, so take a chill pill. Fuck!"

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean…"

"Whatever. I don't think that, why would I?"

"Because I fucked Edward! I was just another one of his groupie sluts, and we all know what you think of them."

"Um, that's because those girls really were whores, and they let Edward do whatever he wanted to them. I may not like him much, but even I have to admit he can be a charming son of a bitch when he wants to be, and you were sucked in. You aren't the first girl it's happened to, and I doubt you'll be the last. You need to forget about him, and move on. He's not worth your time or your tears."

_When did Rose turn into Dr. Phil?_

"I didn't get sucked in to anything, Rose. I wanted to be with him just as much as he wanted to be with me…he just wanted to be with other girls too, unfortunately. I didn't have any misconceptions when we hooked up. I knew what he was like, that he couldn't be faithful, but he always came back to me, and I just thought…" _…that eventually, he would come back to me for good; that I would get him in the end?_

I shook my head. "It doesn't really matter what I thought, because I was obviously wrong. I mean, how could I have been special when he had the same arrangement worked out with that sluttastic bimbo, Tanya. Of all the people in the world, it had to be her! If it had been anyone else, I…"

"You what, Bella? Could have gotten over it? Could have continued fucking him? Are you even listening to yourself?"

"I loved him, Rosalie. I was so head over heels in love with him that I would have done anything for him, and I thought that maybe, he might…but no."

"Edward Cullen only loves himself. I'm not gonna lie, I'm hurt that you lied to us, but I am sorry he hurt you. If it makes you feel better, no one talked to him for months – some of us still don't. He's such a drama queen though – walking around acting all depressed or whatever – that Esme got all worried, and made Al and Em promise to keep an eye on him, which sucks for me, because now I'm forced to see him. Thank God, they rarely succeed at getting him to hang out."

"So what does he do when the four of you aren't forcing him to hang out?" I couldn't help asking.

"Who the hell knows? I imagine the same thing he's always done – hook up with random unsuspecting girls."

I hadn't believed a word he'd said in March, but it still hurt to hear Rose confirm my suspicions so offhandedly.

"Do you know that for sure, or do you just suspect?"

"If you're asking if I follow him around to see who he's fucking, the answer is no; I've got better things to do. But in all the years I've known him, he's never gone more than a few weeks without getting laid. I'm making an educated guess, but I'd be willing to bet I'm right."

I didn't want to believe her, but I knew Edward too. _She was probably right_.

With a suggestive waggle of her eyebrows, she declared, "You need to get back on that horse, Bells…or rather, find one to get on top of you."

"That was just…disgusting, Rose. I mean, eww! Do you even hear the words that are coming out of your mouth? Now I'm envisioning that Tijuana donkey show. Thanks."

"Okay, poor choice of words. I'm just saying, the best way to get over one guy is to get under another. Least, that's what my momma always says," she chokes out through her laughter.

I didn't bother arguing, or telling her that I'd done the research and found that logic to be fallible, but I didn't see any reason to draw attention to my slutty behavior.

"Rosalie Hale, I know for a fact that your 'momma' has never said any such thing."

"She would in this situation."

_Oh, shit! _All traces of amusement left my face and, for the first time since Rose's questioning began, found myself grateful that it was just us.

"How much do Esme and Carlisle know? They don't know how long we were…_involved_ do they?" _I wasn't naïve enough to believe that they didn't know I'd fucked their son._ "I can't imagine what they must think of me."

"Not much, but to their credit, they haven't really asked for any information. They miss you, of course, but they want you to be happy, and if that means you had to leave…so be it. Edward, on the other hand, they weren't happy with – Carlisle still barely talks to him. Esme never really quit, but you know what a mom she is, I think it was mostly out of concern he'd do something stupid.

"They were thrilled to hear that we were coming to see you. I think Esme would have been here too, if she hadn't been chairing some silly hospital function."

I grunted in acknowledgement, and tried to push Rose's words from my mind. I was over and done with Edward Cullen. He could fuck the entire Sea Gals lineup for all I cared_._ _Actually, that might impress me. There were some seriously hot girls cheering for the Seahawks._

"Alright, I'm going to nap before we have to meet up with Anna Wintour's Mini…her. God forbid she doesn't make it to every boutique and designer shop in the city. For fuck's sake that girl needs to stop and smell the Chanel Number Five instead of just purchasing it."

"Night, Ro," I chuckled.

"Hey, Bells?"

"Uh, yeah?"

"I've really missed you. But you tell anyone I said that, and I'll deny it."

"I've missed you too. Sweet dreams."

"Sweet?" she scoffed. "I want rated X, or at the very least NC-17; none of that PG-13 bullshit for me."

"Is your head ever not in the gutter?"

"Nope. Have you met my monkey man? He is a seriously sweet piece of ass."

"Ro…no. That's just…eww. Really. Eww. Not enough bleach in all of Manhattan. Thanks. Night."

I had thought I would be able to sleep, but my mind wouldn't shut off long enough. As Rose sawed logs as peacefully as one can…_I was convinced her and Em's snoring was the secret behind their relationship_…I stared at the ceiling, pondering our conversation, and thinking maybe I really should give Jake a chance. He was loyal, faithful, funny, smart, good looking, he adored me…_selfish as it was, being around someone who was clear about his desire to be with me – even if I wasn't ready to be with anyone – soothed my battered ego_…and I knew he would never hurt me. In a word, he was _safe_; whatever portion of my heart I could give would be safe with him.

…_all that is now, all that is gone, all that's to come, and everything under the sun is in tune_..._  
_

He was the complete opposite of Edward. While Edward was usually broody and pensive, Jake was almost always chipper and open. He was the sun, whereas Edward was more like the dark side of the moon – cold, dangerous, and full of holes. The sun was good for me, I thrived under his warm beams…but I couldn't help craving the chill of the moon wrapped around me.

Of course I loved him…in a way, just not the way he wanted. In another life, another time, if I had never known or fallen in love with Edward Cullen, I'm sure I could have loved him the way he seemed to think he loved me, but this wasn't another life, and I _had_ known Edward! I forced myself to stop considering anything with Jake just in time to get ready to go meet Alice.

…_but the sun is eclipsed by the moon_…

~\\~

The weekend was a blur of boutiques…_bellinis_…high-end department stores…_wine_… museums and art galleries…_champagne_… restaurants…_gin and tonics_…laughter…_martinis_…and the occasional libation, and all too soon, it was Monday night. With goodbye hanging over our heads, we sat around their hotel suite like a bunch of sad sacks; even Alice's ever-bubbly personality had popped. _We were some morose motherfuckers, to quote Jay…minus Silent Bob._

"All right, I can't take it anymore!" Rose exclaimed, shooting up out of her chair, throwing her hands in the air, and effectively startling us out of our doldrums. "We are not wasting our last night together having an emo-pity party for three. Bella – phone please."

Suddenly in front of me – one hand on her hip, and the other held out to me, palm up – I just stared at her. _Come again? _Her foot started tap-tap-tapping impatiently, but I was still trying to process what she'd just said.

"While we're young, Bella. I don't have all Goddamn night!"

"Huh?" I inquired stupidly, my face all scrunched up in confusion.

Rose rolled her eyes, and sighed dramatically before addressing me like a handicapped toddler – complete with exaggerated gesticulating. "Your phone. Give. To me. Now."

Still not following, I began to resemble a panicked horse – tossing my head with the whites of my eyes showing, and then rolling eyes and searching the room for either help or an escape route. In the back of my mind, my sarcastic, bitchy side snorted at the glaze-eyed, slack-jawed look on Alice's face as she raptly watched the proceedings from the other end of the couch with obvious amusement, and absolutely no intention of intervening. _Bitch._

"Wha… Why? Where's yours?" I sputtered at her, still looking for an escape.

"If you were going for all five W's, you forgot two," she sniped.

At that moment, I decided that absence _really_ does make the heart grow fonder…_or delusional, whichever…_because with her absence, I had actually managed to forget what a bitch she could be, and with her newly restored presence, I struggled to remember why we were friends.

"Huh?" I mused to myself…aloud, eyebrows rising slightly.

"Are you even…" she started, trailing off as her expression shifts from harried to vexed. "You know what? Never mind! I'll get it myself," she snaps before her hand darts out and snatches up my phone from off of the end table beside me. Rolling her eyes once more for posterity, she walks away muttering what sounds like an assortment of curses under her breath. I couldn't be certain since I only caught a word or two here and there. "Jesus Christ…fucking…leaving tomorrow…fucking fun…shit…miss her…"

Watching her walk out of the sitting area to their shared room, I snickered quietly and then turned to where Alice was still perched on the other end the couch. The second we made eye contact, she asked, "Dastardly Dog?"

"Exactly! That's totally who she was reminding me of. Fuck! It was going to drive me crazy!" I confirmed before laughter stole my ability to speak in something other than a high-pitched, wheezing voice.

"I heard that!" came from where Rose was holed up with my phone…_she so better not be having phone sex with Emmett on it, or I'll kill her. I need a new phone. _ "You're both out of the wedding, by the way. _And _I'm getting new friends…better ones. Bitches!"

Guffawing uncontrollably until tears were streaming down our faces, Alice and I completely lost it. We laughed so hard, for so long that, unable to support myself, I slid onto the floor clutching my belly while Alice lay curled in a ball on the couch. Too exhausted to continue, our laughter started to die you, but like a hot spot flaring up when you think the fire is out, every now and then one of us would yelp a weak giggle, starting the whole thing up again.

Not totally recovered from our laughing fit yet, we were still panting when Rosalie deigned to grace us with her presence again. "Okay, bitches! Get your sorry asses off the couch and get yourselves pretty. We're going out."

No attempt to move was made by either of us. Instead, we gaped.

"Well, what are you just sitting there for? Get to moving! This train is leaving in an hour whether you're on it or not." She glared with a cocked eyebrow, just daring us to defy her. "I don't see anyone moving."

"An hour?" Alice squeaked.

"Yes."

"Ohmygodthatisnotenoughtime!" she shouted, jumping up to rush into the bedroom. We heard a rustling of bags, and then Taz was back and standing in front of me.

"Bella!" she whined. "What are you doing just sitting there? We have to get ready."

"Um, I am ready? I don't have any clothes or makeup here."

"Yes, you do. Now, get your ass in here." _Fucking Alice and her 'have credit card, will shop' tendencies! _Grabbing my hand, she pulled me off the couch and toward the bedroom. I glowered at Rose…_thanks, bitch_…as I passed her smug face, but she simply smirked harder. _Not the intended effect. _

~\\~

We started off the night in the East Village at some place Rose had stumbled upon on Sunday when, having grown bored with Saint Marks, she wandered off on her own for a bit. It wasn't really her scene, but I loved the unconventional little street, and Alice was pretty enthusiastic about everything, wanting to experience all New York had to offer. Sure, she dressed uptown and was having a small love affair with Madison and Park Avenues, but she appreciated the quirkier side of life…and it was definitely found in abundance on Saint Marks.

When we arrived at The Penny Farthing, we were lead to a table, and it became apparent upon seeing Angie, Ben, and Jake with two of his buddies in tow, why Rose had asked for my phone back at the hotel. _At least she hadn't been fornicating with Emmett while using it. _

"Hey, guys," I said hesitantly, caught off guard and unprepared to have the two different parts of my life – east and west – meet this way. Having gone to school with us, and even hanging out with us at times in both high school and college, Ange and the girls were acquainted, but for no reason other than their vastly different personalities, my friendships with them and with her were separate. They liked each other well enough, but Alice and Rose were so outgoing and possessed such dominating personalities that they swallowed up the extremely introverted Angela.

And then there was Jake. _Awk-ward._ Things between us were already strained – at least, on my side – and being forced to hang out with him under the watchful eyes of Alice and Rose wasn't going to improve the situation. They had already met Jake briefly the day they'd arrived in the city, so there was no first time meeting weirdness, but there was…_something, _a weird tension maybe, in the air. After our conversation on Saturday, I couldn't help feeling as if this was a set up orchestrated by Rose to help me get over Edward, and I didn't like it.

After I received my customary hug and cheek peck from them, the girls were greeted with a hug from Angela, and an awkward handshake from the so-socially-inept-that-it-was-cute, Ben. I waved to Brady and Riley, Jake's friends, and then found myself crushed to Jake in an overly enthusiastic hug. He set my feet back on the ground, and gave me a kiss on the cheek – a little too lingering and close to my mouth for comfort – before releasing me, and pulling out the chair next to him…which was conveniently the only chair left as my asshole friends had taken the two open seats next to Angela and Ben.

I gritted my teeth as I sat, Jake pushing my chair in for me, and then looked across to see my two _dearest_ friends staring at me. Rose caught my eye and, with a knowing smirk, held a closed fist slightly in front of her just a hair above the table while her other hand dropped behind her making a whipping motion, and mouthed the words, '_ride 'em, cowgirl' _to me. She was brief, and covered up the subtle gesture by resting her fist on the table, as the other fiddled with the purse hanging from her chair with the other hand, but I looked around regardless, hoping that no one saw her.

It hadn't escaped Alice's attention, unfortunately – I scowled disapprovingly at Rose – but no one else noticed. Shifting my attention to Al, I tried to get a read on her blank face, but it was indecipherable, causing my anxiety to shift up another level. She'd been uncharacteristically silent about Jake since meeting him, and that wasn't a good thing. Every time his name came up in conversation, I grew more uneasy, because she never stayed silent for long, and I knew that being around them both for an extended period of time wasn't going to end well. _Maybe Jake would call it an early night? Right. _

Guilt and the feeling that I was betraying Edward – both baseless since I owed him nothing, and even if I did, I'd done nothing wrong – flooded over me, and I found myself smiling an apologetic smile at her that I didn't owe.

Trying to push those feelings down and ignore the weight that pressed down on me every time Alice looked at me, I ordered a stiff drink, eagerly drinking it down the second it was set in front of me, and ordering another before the waitress had even finished setting the first round on the table. I saw and ignored the look of concern on Angela's face. I wasn't falling back into old habits, I was just going to need to be well lubricated if I was going to get through the night without breaking down. Alcohol and drugs were never my problem, it was my addiction to Edward that had been my Achilles heel. Still, I smiled reassuringly.

"Jesus, Bella! What's the rush?" Alice questioned, with narrowed eyes.

"Just trying to get the party started, Mom," I joked in deflection.

"You better not get puke on your new clothes tonight, or I'll kick your ass."

~\\~

We were at The Farthing until shortly after ten. Though I slowed down slightly, I drank steadily throughout the meal thanks to the attentive wait-staff who kept the booze flowing. _I tipped them well._ I wasn't feeling any pain by the time we left, but between the food and the tolerance I'd built up since moving to the city, I managed to stay just on the sober side of drunk. It was going to be a long night, so if I wanted to see the finish line…_literally_…I was going to have to slow down and maintain. I didn't.

We wandered around Soho, choosing bars at random, and by last call – at some dive bar that I'd picked but couldn't tell you the name of – we'd all gotten a turn to pick. Jake insisted on escorting us back to the hotel, so the four of us piled into a Yellowcab. Courtesy of Rose, I was stuck sitting between Alice and Jake in the back seat, but I was so intoxicated I hardly noticed the tension in the air…_I was the only one who didn't_. Blissfully unaware, drunk as a skunk and happy to be with my girls, I turned into a touchy-feely, lovey-dovey, babbling idiot.

"Jake, you're really tall," I declared as if I'd just made the discovery of the year…_and not at all as if I was stating the obvious_. Patting him on top of the head, I added, "Like _really_ tall." _Apparently, I hadn't thought I'd gotten my point across._

Jake chuckled and put his arm behind me, resting it on the on the top of the seat while I, motormouth that I'd become, motored on.

"That's my friend Rose in the front seat. She's getting married next year, and I'm going to be the Maid of Honor." I wasn't capable of subtlety while bombed, so my attempted conspiratorial whisper ended up being more of a shout, causing Alice to snicker.

"Really? Barbie's got a Ken-doll back home?" Jake asked.

"Oooohhh! You're in trouble," I squealed, grinning with anticipation.

Rose twisted around in the front seat, giving him her 'You might think you're funny, but really you're just acting like a jackass, and I'm not amused' look. _She could say a lot with a look._

"Hardee-har-har. Like I haven't heard that one before, jackass," she said icily, with a roll of her pretty blue eyes. "What is it with big, dumb, muscle-y guys like you assuming that just because I'm blonde with a nice rack…"

"Aww!" I moaned in annoyance when Jake cut her off just as she was launching into the good part of her tirade.

"Easy there, Kujo, it was just a joke," Jake attempted to placate her, hands up in front of him and eyes all wide and innocent. "Jeez! You need to lighten up, blondie."

_Oh, no he di'int!_ As hammered as I was, I knew this wouldn't end well. Rose was about to blow the roof off this car, so I did the only thing my inebriated mind could think to do to stop Three Mile Island II from happening…

"Rosie, Rosie, give me your answer due, I'm something something all for the love of you!" I sang all off-key and annoyingly and forgetting words. "Rosie! Rosie, did you hear me?"

"Yes, Bella," she acknowledged, her eye roll apparent in her voice, and I was happy because I distracted her. _She really could be a stick in the mud._

"Ro-Rosalie? You know, you can be a real bitch sometimes, but I love you anyway."

Alice snorted – loudly – causing me to giggle.

"I love you too, Bella. Even if you are somewhat of a rude drunk." She was so trying not to laugh at my antics but, strange as it was, I was enjoying being in the limelight, and I was going to get her to laugh.

"Rosie! You have really pretty eyes. Much better than my brown ones. They look like shiny soph…sapp…sapphires – all glittery. Mine make me look like I'm full of shit." I laughed hysterically at myself.

"Aw, Bells…I think you've got pretty eyes." Jake's arm slid off the seat to wrap around my shoulder in comfort. Too drunk and happy to really give a shit – or even remember that his advances were unwelcome – I did nothing. The warm, heavy weight of his arm was comforting, so I snuggled into his into his side a bit…and maybe sniffed him. _He smelled good! Don't judge._ For the briefest moment, I remembered…something about not wanting him to be so close to me, but I couldn't remember what or why. It didn't matter anyway though, because my alcohol-induced A.D.D. almost instantly had me moving on to another topic.

"You're so nice, Jake. Alice!" I slurred, clumsily poking her cheek. "I just want you to know…I love you. You're my best friend. Let's not fight anymore, 'kay?"

"I wuv you too, Bella-wella…Bella-bella-bobella-banana-nana-fofella-me-mi-mo-mella, Bella!" she sing-songed, and then dissolved into a fit of laughter with her hand wrapped like a baby's around the finger I'd just been prodding her with. Like a switch had been flipped, she suddenly sobered. She looked at me all sadly, and near tears lamented, "I wanted you to be my sister-in-law one day. We were going to be neighbors. You weren't supposed to run off to New York to get slobbered on by that jackass." _Well, she obviously isn't pro Jake._

Her non sequitur threw me for a loop, and effectively shut me up. No one spoke, or moved, or even breathed – the tension was just too thick inside the cab. Even the driver was relieved to pull into the hotel less than a minute later. Alice stumbled out of the taxi as Rose dug through her purse to pay the fare.

"Bye, Jakey-wakey! Get home safely!" I chirped as I slid out behind Alice, pretending nothing happened.

Closing the door behind me, I joined Alice – who was in her own little world, happily spinning around in circles – near the valet stand to wait for Rose to finish up. I heard the _whir _of an automatic window, and then Jake's voice. "You girls going to make it to your room okay? I could walk you up."

"Nah, we're good. Thanks, Jakey-poo!"

"Hurry up, Rose!" Alice demanded, coming to a dizzy halt and stomping her foot. She was clearly annoyed with Jake_. You think?_

"I'll call you later this week, Bells," he promised, sounding all downtrodden and dejected as Rose closed her door.

"Finally!" Alice sighed in irritation. Not bothering to wait for Rose to walk over to us, she grabbed my hand, and began dragging me to the automatic revolving door that led to the ground level of the hotel.

Guilt and shame were eating me up, because even though he'd been pissing me off, he was still my friend; I couldn't leave things like that. Still being towed along behind Al, I looked back at him with an apologetic smile and a shrug of my shoulders, mouthing 'sorry' to him. As the cab pulled away, Jake accepted with a nod and a wave, which I returned, and then I turned my head back around…just in time to smack it on the doorframe. _Motherfucker!_

Releasing me, Alice continued through the revolving door, leaving me both my hands to cover my forehead with. My cool hands did nothing to help the ache on my noggin…_that's gonna leave a mark…_but soothed my enflamed face as I moaned in frustration and embarrassment. It was certain it would bruise – my pale skin marked up easily – but I was much too drunk for it to really hurt much. Someone behind me was snickering and my face, already flushed from all the liquor and humiliation, darkened a few more shades. I was half-relieved and half-annoyed when I turned around and came face to face with Rosalie.

"Oh, shut it, princess!" I snapped.

She only laughed harder, and pointed to a normal swinging door about twenty feet to the right of the revolving one. "Regular door?"

"After you, whore."

"Oh, come on! You just…hahaha! Smack! Right into the glass! Such a classic Bella Swan move. Ahhh! Classic…"

She was still chuckling as we entered the unique circular bank of elevators, walking around to where Alice waited, making it just in time to follow her inside the open doors of our assigned elevator.

"Way to wait for us, Al," teased Rose, but she got no response.

As the doors slid shut, we looked over to find a rather pissy, scowling Alice standing as far away from us as the round elevator car would allow, glaring at the floor as it were her personal nemesis with her arms crossed over her chest. _Oy vey iz mir. It was going to be one of those nights. _

A drunk Alice was…like a box of chocolates. You never knew what you were going to get. Nine times out of ten, the confection would be delightful, but there was that one piece that left you with an awful taste in your mouth. We huddled together in our quadrant, looking at the floor, not even daring to breathe until the doors opened and Alice stepped out into the hall; you never knew what would set her off, so it was best to play possum.

Rose glanced at me, '_You got a clue what this moody bitch is upset about?'_ I shrugged my shoulders, '_You know Alice – your guess is as good as mine.'_ I was lying, but if Rose knew, she said chose to ignore it and say nothing. I wasn't lying per se, I guess. I wasn't positive what her problem was, but I had my suspicions – namely that she was pissed off about Jake – and I was ninety-nine percent positive I was on target.

We trailed behind Alice through what felt like a maze of hallways, all going our separate ways when we entered their suite – Alice to the bathroom, Rose to the bedroom, and me to the couch. Rose brought me some pajamas when Alice finished in the bathroom, and she even made up the couch for me to sleep on while I changed, and made a half-assed, drunken attempt at brushing my teeth and scrubbing my face.

Returning from my evening…er, morning ablutions, I immediately flopped down onto the couch, my head landing in Rose's lap with a thud.

"Ow!"

"Pussy. That didn't even hurt. I'm drunk, Rosie-posie," I sighed.

"That's because you drank most of the booze in Manhattan. I'm actually kind of impressed."

"Oh, well I guess I can die a happy girl now, because that was my one goal in life, to impress Rosalie Hale."

She stuck her tongue out at me, and then mock-confessed, "I'm afraid Alice is going to murder me in my sleep; she's really in a mood. Can I sleep out here with you? Pretty please! Or maybe you could just switch me places for the night. The bed's _really_ comfy."

"I love you and all, but no. You're just going to have to take one for the team, and by team I mean me."

"There's no 'I' in team, Bells."

"Yes, but there is a 'me,' and that's where my loyalties lay."

"You know you're a selfish bitch, right?"

"Mhmm. I'm aware. Payback. Mwah! Love ya', and don't forget to sleep with one eye open…" I paused briefly…_wait for it._ Sitting up, I began to whip my long hair around as if in an early nineties mosh pit while shredding my air guitar. Picking up where I left off, I sang the rest of the chorus in a rough whisper, "…gripping your pillow tight. Exit light, enter night! Take my hand…off to never-neverland!"

"Metallica? Really?"

"What? I happen to think I give good James Hetfield."

"You give good something starting with 'he', but it isn't James Hetfield."

"Don't worry, Rose, you'll always be the head master. Now, get out of here so I can go to bed."

"Fine, but when I die, my death will be on your hands. I hope you're prepared for that."

"Fully. Night, Ro."

"G'night, B. Love you."

"Love you too."

~\\~

I was awoken what felt like only minutes after I had gone to sleep, but in reality was at least four hours, because the sun was shining…right in my face.

I pulled the blanket up over face with a groan. "Who the fuck opened the bloody curtains?"

"I did," came Alice's much too chirpy voice, and then she plopped down on the couch beside me.

"Are you daft? Why the hell would you do a thing like that, Alice Cullen?"

"Shhh! Lower your voice or you'll wake Rose. I needed to talk to you privately."

"Can't it wait 'til later? I'm tired…and a bit hungover," I added as my stomach voiced its opinion of all the jostling around I was doing to it. I didn't even care that I was whining; Alice did it all the time, and it worked for her.

"It's really important, Bella. Please."

I sighed. "Fine, I'm awake, but I'm not taking the blanket off my face."

"Okay," she agreed softly, but didn't continue.

When she still hadn't said anything minutes later, I poked my head out. "Well? You gonna talk, or can I go back to sleep?"

"No – I mean no, I'm gonna talk, don't go back to sleep. I'm just trying to figure out where to start."

"The beginning usually works."

"Yeah," she murmured, chewing on her lip and wringing her hands nervously.

Realizing that this was going to take a while without gentle encouragement, I sat up. Also, her behavior was making me anxious, although I was doing my best to hide it. I grabbed her hands, and reminded her, "Al, it's just me. You don't need to be nervous."

And then…she started crying. _What the fuck! _Was someone sick…or dying? Was it something about Edward that she was afraid to tell me? _Was Edward sick or dying?_

"Alice, Jesus… Look, whatever it is, just tell me. You're kind of freaking me out."

My eyes were drawn to my hands when she yanked hers away. I was still staring at them when, out of nowhere, her tiny body slammed into mine – catching me off-guard so we fell against the back of the couch – and her arms wrapped around me. "I'm so sorry, Bella! For everything. I'm such an awful friend."

I hesitantly returned her hug with stiff pats to her back in some half-assed gesture of comfort. I was slightly mystified as to why we were rehashing this. I thought we'd cleared this up months ago.

Through messy sobs, and clinging to me like she thought I would disappear if she let go, she continued blathering. "I know you said you forgave me, but I just… I can't tell you how sorry I am, and I'm so grateful to have you back in my life." She pulled away then, and landed a stinging slap to my upper arm. "But don't you ever…," she scolded angrily, slapping my other arm, "…ever…," another slap, "…ever disappear on me again!"

"Alice! Alice!" I laughed, squirming around trying to avoid her vicious swats while at the same time attempting to subdue her. As suddenly as it started, her attack ceased, and she was hugging me again. "Ali, it's okay! I forgave you. I know you're sorry, and I'm sorry too."

"I know. Just…promise not to leave like that again," she demanded tearily, all traces of anger from the moment before gone from her voice.

"I promise," I agreed, prompting her to move beside me on the couch. Trying to lighten the mood, I joked, "Well, I'm relieved that was what all this was about. The way you attacked me, I thought for sure you were coming on to me, and I gotta say, Al – I love you to death, but I'm just not into girls. I'm aaaaall about the penis. Penis is king in my book."

"Oh, shut-up, carpetmuncher. You know you want me."

"Hell to the no thank you very much."

"You know you'd be all up in my Kool-Aid, and my panties if I let you. But you can't handle this. Mmhmmm." She gave a little attitude, putting her hand in my face like, '_whatever,' _and I snorted.

"Kool-Aid, Al? Nineteen-ninety called, and it wants its slang back."

"Saturday Night Live called, they want their sketch back." Serious once again, she abruptly changed topics. "I'm also sorry about my behavior last night. I was kind of a bitch to Jake, and I shouldn't have said that thing about wanting you to be my sister-in-law. I didn't mean to."

_Really? Because I'd always wanted the same thing._

I must have given away my distress or something, because she suddenly backtracked. "Shit! Wait! I didn't mean that I didn't – that I don't want that. I just meant that I didn't mean to say that in front of him…or you either. After everything that's happened, it was incredibly insensitive of me, and… Grrrr! I am fucking this right the fuck up. Let me start try this again.

"I shouldn't have said what I said. Period. And I should have been nicer. I guess I was still hoping that you and Edward would somehow work things out, and one day we would be sisters. Jake is a threat to that, and I lashed out at him, but you have my word that it won't happen again. From this point on, I vow to do what I should have done from the beginning, and just butt out.

"No more meddling. I'm going to mind my own business, until you come to me…unless my asshat brother is involved. In that case, I don't want to hear about it. You two are on your own. I'm not going to be tricked into being a go-between, or be pumped for information about each other. I think it's the only way I can be Edward's sister, and your best friend.

"You can talk to me about anything as long as Edward's not involved, and when you decide to try dating – or whatever – it'll be your friend Alice you talk to about it, not his sister. I wish I could be there for you when it comes to getting over my brother, but I don't think I can be impartial, and I don't want to feel as if I'm choosing sides. Does that sound horribly selfish?"

That was the last thing I'd been expecting, but I was grateful. Between her and Rose, she'd always been my go-to girl, and I'd missed that. Alice never just told me what to do; she had this way of asking the right questions that allowed me to work through a problem on my own, that left me feeling empowered in my life. Whereas Rosalie's usual response was to tell me to stop acting like a pussy, or tell me what she would do in my situation, and she'd already given me her opinion – unsolicited, I might add – on the particular subject that I was most concerned about. If I was honest, I guess I felt that because Alice was Edward's sister, having her tell me that it was okay to move on made me feel less guilty.

"No, it doesn't sound selfish at all. It makes perfect sense, and I think it's exactly what I need. I've missed being able to go to you. I have so much that I've wanted to call you about, but I didn't think I could…"

And just like that things were back to normal. We spent the rest of our time before Rose woke up, and Alice had to pack, talking. I told her everything that had happened with Jake – how I thought we were just friends, but he wanted to be more. How he had kissed me against my will, and even though I didn't really feel that way about him, I couldn't help wondering if it was because I wasn't allowing myself to. Because I loved him, I did, but I just didn't think I loved him like that…and I didn't know if I ever would. We talked and talked, and even though she asked all the right questions, in the end, I still wasn't sure.

"Bella, it's not going to hurt you to explore things, and see if there's anything there. What's the worst that could happen? You lose Jake as a friend, but if he stops speaking to you simply because you do what he wants – you give it a shot, and realize, once and for all, that you can't return his feelings, then he wasn't much of a friend to begin with, and it's better you found out now rather than later. I'm not telling you what to do one way or another. Whatever you decide, just make sure you follow your heart."

~\\~

Reluctant to separate before we absolutely had to, I rode with them to the airport. I probably would've had to go with them whether I wanted to or not just to help with the extra luggage Alice had for all the shit she bought. I waited with them while they checked their luggage and received their boarding passes, and then I walked them to the security checkpoint where we stood off to the side quietly soaking up the last of each other's company. When they finally had to get in line, we exchanged tearful hugs and teasing insults before I waved them off and turned to leave; part of me wished I was going with them, and didn't want to watch them walk away.

After taking a moment or two to compose myself, I began to make my way out of the airport. I hadn't taken more than a handful of steps when I thought I heard my name called out. Stopping to be sure, I heard it again, and turned around just in time for Alice slam into me, giving me another hug goodbye. "I'm really going to miss you, B."

She was on the verge of tears, and I knew that I couldn't let her start. It was a slippery slope, because if she cried, I would start, it would escalate, and then before you could say 'Bob's your uncle,' I'd be dropping out of Colombia and buying a ticket back to Seattle…plus I _hated _crying in public. _Blotchy just isn't a good look for me._

"Oh, Alice – stop lying to yourself. When are you going to finally give in and come to embrace the love that dare not speak its name?"

"Pshaw! You wish. You're much too girly for me. I prefer my paramours to have a dick, thank you very much."

A loud gasp alerted us that someone had overheard her, and we both started laughing. It was exactly what we needed, but Rose's voice cut through the moment of hilarity, sending us crashing back to earth. "Al! Move your ass, or I'm leaving you here…with no credit cards since I have your purse."

"Damn!" Alice hissed, causing me to roll my eyes at her.

"Call me when you land, so I know you made it home, and give everyone my love."

"I will. Love you, B."

"I love you too, Ali. Thanks for everything."

"Aww, Bells! You know I'd do anything for you…and thank you, too."

"You're welcome. Now get out of here, or else we'll be here all day jerking each other off, Rose'll disappear with your precious AmEx, you'll miss your flight and be forced to hook on some street corner in Queens for some pimp named Daddy D…or some shit," I rambled.

She smiled, and shook her head at me. "Later, babes. Take care of you." Turning on her heel, she walked back to where Rose stood in the security line.

"Later," I called after her. When she was halfway back to the line, I impulsively shouted out her name, and ran towards her.

"Didn't we already say goodbye?" she joked, but I didn't take the bait.

"I know what you said this morning about Edward and me, but could you do me one favor…please?"

"Um – I guess…maybe?" She replied skeptically.

"Could you please ask him for me, to respect my wishes, and tell him…that I meant what I said."

"Yeah, I can do that."

"Thanks, Ali." I gave her another hug, and then sent her on her way. "Now get out of here before you miss your flight. And give my father a hug for me next time you're in Forks!"

"I will! Bye, Bells!"

~\\~

After the girls left, I missed home more than ever, and it took me a little while regain my equanimity. Of course, being left to my own devices didn't make it to get back into the groove. The first week and a half of June was spent entirely too much inside my head thinking and getting nowhere. I needed a distraction, but the few people in my small social circle were otherwise engaged. Angela was going with Ben to Hawaii for his sister's wedding the third week of June. They would be gone for two weeks – a week and a half in Maui, and the rest of the time visiting Angela's family in Forks – so between work and everything else, she was busy as hell and hardly around. And Jake…well, I didn't hear from him.

I could have called him, but he'd said he would call, and I assumed he would when he was ready…or not. At this point, I wasn't sure how I felt about that – him never calling again. There were things I would miss – his smile, the way he made me laugh, how he brightened my dark days, and the way I felt almost normal when I was around him – but there were just as many things I wouldn't miss. I could do without his possessiveness, his persistence in trying to force me into a relationship, and the way he had purposely pushed Rose's and Alice's buttons.

On the Thursday the week after the girls went home, my phone rang, and I answered without looking, expecting it to be Alice.

"Hey, Bells."

I nearly dropped the phone. His was the last voice I expected to hear, but I can't deny the relief that passed through me. "Jake?"

"Heh…yeah," he stammered, actually having the good grace to seem somewhat abashed, but it didn't let him off the hook.

Cold and detached, I asked, "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I guess I had that coming."

I snorted and, before I could stop myself, snapped, "Ya think?" I mentally chastised myself for my lack of control, and then demanded, "I assume you called for a reason, so let's have it. I've got shit to, and don't have time for you to hem and haw, or beat around the bush."

"Um – well…" he started uncertainly. "I was just calling to apologize for acting like an ass, and to ask if I could take you out for lunch or dinner or…something to make it up to you."

"In what way did you act like an ass?" I was truthfully curious what his answer would be.

"I said I'd call, but I didn't, and I should have. I got upset about something said by someone who was intoxicated, and I took it out on you by acting like a pissy child, for which I am truly sorry," he admitted.

"Mmm," I replied noncommittally.

"Mmm? Mmm? That's all you're going to say?" he implored.

Biting off a sharp laugh, I replied, "Yeah."

"Well, are you going to accept my apology, and forgive me or not?"

"No. You can't just act the way you did, not call when you say you're going to, and then wait nine days and expect to be forgiven."

"I said I was sorry!" he countered, his voice rising as his agitation grew, mine increasing right-along with it, causing my nostrils to flare.

"Oh well, that just makes _everything_ all better, Jake."

"I bet if I was Edward Cullen you'd forgiven me," he accused bitterly.

"You know what Jacob Black? Fuck you! Call me when you grow up and stop acting like a complete douchebag. Until then, go fuck yourself, you stupid, cocksucking prick!" I screamed, and then pulled the phone away from my ear. Trying to disconnect the call, I poked at the screen of my phone repeatedly, but I was furious and shaking so badly, I couldn't seem to get the fucking thing to work. I finally reached my breaking point, and threw the Goddamn thing across the room, where it landed on my bed. _I was angry, not stupid…plus, I didn't have the six-hundred dollars it would cost to replace._

As soon as it left my hand, a frustrated growl rumbled in my chest. Gritting my teeth, I had myself a good, old-fashioned temper tantrum, complete with stamping feet, and clenched fists beaten against my thighs. By the time I finished, I was breathing hard, and more than likely bruised, but no calmer than I was to begin with. I was so bloody _angry_ that I wanted to choke the piss out of him, or some into him; I wasn't sure which. How fucking _dare_ he throw Edward in my face, especially when he couldn't have been more wrong.

Edward had _begged_ me for forgiveness – _several _times, in fact. Hell, he had travelled twenty-five hundred miles to plead for with me to forgive him, and I had still sent him packing, so if Jake thought I was going to accept his shitty excuse for an apology, he was smoking crack. _Grrrr!_ Stupid jackass!

Stiff and still in the middle of my small bedroom, I closed my eyes and concentrated on slowing my breathing. I drew deep breaths in through my nose, and out through my mouth…_in with the good_…_out with the bad_…needing to get control of myself and rein my feelings in, but every time I succeeded in stilling my mind, Jakes face and snide voice would invade the quiet, and a fresh wave of anger would surge through me. Realizing that my anger management techniques weren't going to work, I began to pace…and pace…and pace…and…

I paced until I started to feel trapped – whether by circumstance, or physically, I'm not certain, but I had to get out. My respiratory rate spiked so that I was practically panting, I felt the first sweet dregs of adrenaline hit my bloodstream, and my mind was mostly numb, lost in that weird manic stage that happens just before a panic attack really sets in and sweeps you under. I wasn't even fully aware of making the decision to leave my apartment. It wasn't until I was several blocks away that it registered, and at that point, I didn't really care where I was going, or that I had shit to do. I was just happy that I'd grabbed my keys and my wallet.

With no destination in mind, I wandered aimlessly until I eventually hit the perimeter of Central Park. It was early evening, but still daylight, so I walked a short way into the park. Sitting on the first bench I came to, I stared at nothing until it began to grow dark and the streetlights came on, serving as my cue to leave for home. By the time I grabbed a cab back to my apartment, my anger had long since faded. I was exhausted both physically and emotionally, and just wanted to sleep. It had been a really long day – it had been a really long life.

World-weary and not paying any attention as I trudged up stairs to my apartment, I nearly tripped over a vase of flowers sitting in front of the door. They were from Jake. I didn't bother reading the card before I tossed them in the trash.

~\\~

For the next week, Jake plied me with texts, voicemails, flowers, balloons, and other tokens meant to prove to me how sorry he was. I wanted to hold onto my anger, and stick with my decision to cut him out of my life, but bit by bit, he was wearing me down, and I felt my resolve begin to slip. His reconciliatory efforts reached their peak the Wednesday following our fight. I had just dismissed my two o'clock class when a man dressed as a pig walked in.

"Can I help you?" I questioned, eyebrows raised at his appearance.

"Are you Isabella Swan?"

"I am."

"I have a message for you from a Mr. Jacob Black."

My jaw dropped, but before I could send him away, he started singing.

"_I'm sorry, so sorry, that I was such a fool. I didn't know love could be so cruel…Oh, oh, oh, oh, uh-oh, oh, yes. You tell me mistakes are part of being young, but that don't right the wrong that's been done._" He paused, and spoke the next part, "_I'm sorry, so sorry. Please accept my apology, but love is blind and I was too blind to see_…"

Pausing again, this time to pull a card from…_somewhere_ on his costume, he opened it, and began to read from it. "Mr. Black says that he acted like an abominable ass, and if you could find it in your heart to forgive him, he would be eternally grateful, and spend the rest of his life making it up to you. Please do him the honor of accompanying him to dinner this evening at seven-thirty, at Terrace in the Sky. Should you choose to not join him, he will take that as your answer, and he promises to no longer inflict himself upon you."

I was dumbfounded, a little embarrassed, and…_something _else, but I couldn't put my finger on it. Jake sent me a singing fucking telegram! On reflex, I accepted the card that he held out to me, and then burst into manic laughter, oblivious to the puzzled glances of the few remaining stragglers from my class who had stayed to enjoy the show.

Still laughing, I held up my finger and barked, "Just… Just – g-give me a minute." When I finally had some control of myself, I grabbed my purse from where I'd stowed it behind the lectern, pulled out some cash to tip him, and then watched him as he left. When he was gone, I fell into a chair and buried my face in my hands. _What am I gonna do, what am I gonna do, what am I gonna do?_

A small, tentative voice interrupted my dazed ruminations. "Um, Miss Swan…Bella?"

I lifted my head to see one of my students, a small, shy girl named Bree Stevens. "Mmm…um, I'm sorry. How can I help you, Miss Stevens?"

"I'm probably out of line here, but I just wanted to say, that…that was the sweetest gesture I've ever seen! If some guy went through all that trouble for me…well, I don't think I could stay mad at him. I'd at least have to hear him out."

She nervously rambled as I intently regarded her, rolling her words around in my head. "I'm sorry. I-I didn't mean to intrude…I just… I-I should go…"

Placing a hand on her arm, I stopped her. "No, no really…you're fine. I think I needed to hear that. Thank you." Relief washed over her, and she flushed with what I assumed was gratitude over not having overstepped her bounds or angered me. I squeezed her arm once before releasing it, and asked, "I'll see you in class on Friday?"

She nodded, and rushed towards the door like she was afraid I'd change my mind. Before she could reach it, I called out to her, "Hey, Bree!" She turned. "Thanks again."

Another nod and a half-smile, and then she pushed up her glasses, and left me alone to gather up my things before heading home.

~\\~

"He did what?" Alice screeched through the phone so loudly that I actually had to pull it away from my ear, and even then I could still hear her squealing. "Oh my God, Bella, you have to go! That's like – a whole other level of sweet, and totally outside the box! I'm so jealous! What are you gonna wear?"

"Hold up there, Ricky Bobby. I haven't even decided if I'm going to go or not."

"What do you mean you're not sure if you're going? Of course you're going! Yeah, he acted like a major douchebag, but he pulled his head out of his ass, and he's done everything he can to prove to you how sorry he is. He obviously cares about you, Bella. You'd be a fool not to go, and at least hear him out. And if you don't…I'll never talk to you again," she threatened.

"Alice!"

"Okay, okay…not really, but still… You have to follow your heart, but if you want my opinion, I think you should at least give him a chance at earning your friendship back. I know I said I wouldn't interfere – and I'm not really – but as your friend, this has to be said.

"You can't stay stuck in this limbo, Bella. You keep saying you're through with Edward, yet you walk around acting as if you're pining away for him, and sweetie…that's just not healthy. For either of you.

"You need to make a decision. Either give Edward a chance…or let him go."

I stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, the desire to get angry flirting at the edge of my conscience. I wanted to get mad at her, wanted to yell and scream, and tell her to mind her own Goddamn business, to stop meddling, and ask what happened to her being Switzerland, but I just couldn't, because deep down, I knew she was right.

"Bella?" she whispered cautiously.

"I'm here, Al," I answered, still frozen, and still silent.

"I'm sorry. I probably shouldn't have said… I told you I would stay out of it, but I just couldn't continue to silently watch the two of you wallow in misery. And since he doesn't seem to be willing to let go…" She stopped abruptly, and I could hear someone speaking to her before she came back on the line. "Look," she sighed, "I have to go, I've got a meeting, but I'll call you as soon as it's over. It might run long, so it'll probably be a few hours."

"Okay," I accepted distractedly.

"You're not mad at me are you?"

"What? Oh, um…no. No, you were right, it had to be said."

"Okay. Well, I'll call you when I'm finished for the day. And Bella…just make whatever decision is best for you, okay?"

"Okay, Al. I'll talk to you later. Love you."

"Love you, too."

We hung up, and after a moment, I resumed walking, and mulled things over. _Whatever decision is best for me. …ay, there's the rub…_

I didn't want to lose Jake, I could admit that now, and I hated that I didn't…_or couldn't_…_maybe wouldn't_…love him the way he did me, but the thing was, he didn't really love me! He loved the person he thought I was, the person I used to be, and in reality, I was a corpse. The person he claimed to be in love with was locked away, asleep inside a glass coffin after having partaken of the poison apple that was Edward Cullen, never to awake because the curse was the cure, and the cure would only curse me again.

There was no Prince Charming – no _knight-in-shining-Under-Armor_ – or who-the-fuck-ever whose kiss would awaken me, because he preferred his Snow White remain encased in her glass box of ignorance while he fucked slutty medical school cunts behind her back. This wasn't a fairy tale, it was a tragedy. It was Romeo and Juliet, and Jake wasn't meant to be my Romeo, because he'd only end up dead like me. I couldn't – didn't want to spend the rest of my life alone, though.

I finally came to a decision, and picked up my phone.

"Hey Al, it's me… Um, I was just calling to tell you that I'm going to give him a chance – Jake, I mean. Don't worry about calling me back, I'll call you tomorrow and let you know how it went. Love you and, uh…thanks for being honest with me. I think I needed to hear that. Bye."

I was so selfish.

~\*/~

* * *

**Songs Used**  
(In Order Of Appearance):  
_Eclipse_, Pink Floyd (Album: Dark Side of the Moon)  
_Enter Sandman_, Metallica  
_I'm Sorry, _Brenda Lee

1. '_That's gonna leave a mark.' _Tommy Callahan in Tommy Boy.  
2. _'…come to embrace the love that dare not speak its name.'_ Frau Farbissina in Austin Powers and the Spy Who Shagged Me is where I got the inspiration, but my lovely reader, Charlucas, informs me, and she's correct, that the line originates from the poem 'Two Loves' by Lord Alfred Douglas, and became famous during Oscar Wilde's intrial for gross indecency (in other words, homosexuality), and is classically interpreted as a euphemism for homosexuality. Thank you, Charlucas.  
3. _…ay, there's the rub… _Hamlet's 'To be or not to be" soliloquy in Act II, Scene I of Hamlet.

A/N: So we're not quite caught up time-wise with Edward. We're still about a week and a half behind him at the end of this, but as far as the story is concerned, it doesn't matter.

Hope you enjoyed this chapter, and thank you for continuing to trust me. It will be rewarded eventually. I swear.

I'd love to hear what you think. Reviews dropped off so sharply for the last chapter that I'm certain y'all quit reading and hate me. I really hope I'm just being paranoid. Naturally, you don't have to say a word if you don't want to. I'm prolly just looking for validation anyway.

See ya' next time.

**An explanation in defense of Alice:  
**This may not be necessary, but people have been so angry at Alice, that I feel the need to defend her for just a moment before there is anymore hatin'.

Alice obviously knows about Bella giving Jake a shot for a week or so before she says anything to Edward. She's not keeping anything from him, but she wouldn't have gone running off to tell her brother that Bella was moving on the moment she found out. She's trying to not meddle, knows the news will hurt him, so she didn't say anything until she felt he needed to know.

In her mind, Bella trying with Jake means that she's letting Edward go. Knowing this, she doesn't want her brother to continue pining away. She wants him to find some sort of happiness, and he won't be able to do that until he knows that his cage door is open. Whether he chooses to walk through it or not, is entirely his choice. Hopefully that makes sense.

Thanks again.


	5. Chapter 5 Old Habits Die Hard

**Disclaimer: **S. Meyer owns all recognizable characters, plots, etc. Only original content, characters, etc. belongs to author. No copyright infringement intended. Any errors contained herein, are expressly the fault of the authors idiocy, and not her betas.

**Word Count:** 10,627 (Around 1k longer than intended, sorry.)

**A/N: **This has been done for a week and a half, but Ms. V's father had a heart attack and surgery, so it took her a bit longer to get it beta'd.

My undying devotion/eternal gratitude to V for betaing, and Char for the pre-read. Y'all owe Char for the de-pussification of Badward; I was trying to neuter the poor guy, apparently. And thanks to Em for her small assists (you're missed as co-beta). This would be a mess without the three of you.

Thanks to all of you for reading, and reviewing. You're all lovely. Enjoy.

***Warning: I know some of you are unhappy with where the story is right now, and will be even more dissatisfied after this chapter, but as the proverb says, this too shall pass. **

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Chapter 5 – Old Habits Die Hard

* * *

..._I'm half delirious, it's too mysterious  
You walk through my walls like a ghost  
And I take every day at a time  
I'm as proud as a Lion in his Lair  
Now there's no denying it, a note to crying it  
Your all tangled up in my head_…

…_We haven't spoken in months  
You see I've been counting the days  
I dream of such humanities, such insanities  
I'm lost like a kid and I'm late_…_  
_…_I act like an addict, i just got to have it  
I can never just leave it alone_…

…_And I can't give you up  
Can't leave you alone  
And it's so hard, so hard  
And hard enough to feel the pain_

_Old habits die hard_…_  
_…_Hard enough to feel the pain  
_- Mick Jagger (with Dave Stewart)

~\*/~

I managed – just fucking barely – to remain intact, to keep my game face on while in front of my sister.

My voice was only slightly strained when I told her, "That's great, Alice. I'm happy for her, but why are you telling me this? It's none of my business what she's doing. I promised I would stay out of her life."

"I just want you to be happy, Edward. You can't keep doing this."

"Doing what? And I am happy. I'm fucking ecstatic. What do I have to do to prove to you that I'm fine? Interpretive dance? Stand-up comedy? Let's face it, Al – I've never exactly been Chuckles the fucking Clown; I'm not you."

"Sitting home all alone constantly and only leaving to go for school-related purposes isn't normal or happy! You don't talk to anyone, you ignore your own family… We all miss her, Edward, but what would happen if she were here? You don't know the first thing about being in a relationship, nor are you in any shape to be in one right now. You're a fucking mess! You need to take care of _you_," Alice cried adamantly.

She paused, and when she spoke again, her voice was soft – almost pleading. "I know it hurts, but she's moving on. You need to do the same, because this – the way you've been numb and closed off for damn near a year now – isn't healthy."

"I'm busy, Alice. The last year of med school is a killer."

"Medical school has nothing to do with it! You need to get out of this apartment and live; you're not dead yet, so quit acting like you are."

"I have to be at the hospital soon, did you need anything else?"

"Nope," she replied, sharply clipping off the 'p'. "I love you, and…I'm here for you if you need me. Oh...um, Mom and Dad want to do dinner next week for our birthday. Please let me know ASAP what days you're available so Mom can make reservations somewhere?"

"Yeah, no problem. Bye, Al."

With a disappointed grunt in lieu of goodbye, she was gone.

…_if you want to destroy my sweater, pull this thread as I walk away_...

The moment I closed the door behind her, I unraveled, barely making it to my room before the desolation consumed me.

…_watch me unravel, I'll soon be naked, lyin' on the floor, lyin' on the floor, I've come undone_…

_I'd lost her. _She was moving on.I'd known the day would come, I just hadn't expected it to be so soon. Although, was it really? After all, it was nearly a year ago that she ran away, and _she_ was the one who'd decided we were through. It made sense for her to be the first to move on. Besides, it wasn't as if whomever she was seeing was the first person she'd been with since she'd left. I grimaced, thinking about what I'd interrupted in her kitchen back in March, and Angela _had_ implied that it wasn't an unusual occurrence.

I didn't like it, but meaningless sex…that I could understand. _No shit, dude?_ I would be buried under so many layers of hypocrisy if I couldn't, and as disgusted as I'd been knowing she'd fucked someone else, I couldn't blame her; I had it coming. But…_she's been seeing someone for a while_…she wasn't just fucking someone, she was _seeing_ someone, and that was totally different.

_You wanted her to have a happy life,_ I reminded myself, but the words did nothing to ease the ache.

I wallowed for a days – never crying, just suffocating in the emptiness that had only grown worse since she'd left. Gorging myself on _what ifs, maybes,_ and _shoulda-woulda-couldas_, until I bloated with regret. I didn't know how to get past it – didn't know if I could – so I withdrew even further. All of my free time was spent in my dark bedroom, sprawled across the side of the bed that Bella had preferred when she stayed over, with my face shoved in the pillows trying to conjure her scent.

Unfortunately, I washed my sheets on a regular basis. Had I known the last time she stayed that it would be her last time, I think I might have saved her pillowcase in a zip-lock bag so I would never forget her scent. _Dude, that's creepy even for you. _Yeah, that was creepy, but I couldn't say for certain that I wouldn't have...I missed her that desperately.

For the most part, as long as I focused on _how _I felt, thoughts of _why_ stayed away, but after a week, my mind grew restless, and wandered down rarely tread and perilous paths. Laying there, in the bed that only she had ever slept in – or even _been _in – visions of Bella in my bed lodged in my head.

Like a movie reel, images of the numerous times I'd worshipped her in my bed, began to play on the backs of my eyelids; it was torture, but memories of her were all I had left…and looked like all I would _ever_ have. I let myself get lost in memories of the way my hands would glide along her supple curves while I kneeled between her parted legs…

…fingertips drifting up her thighs, over the smooth swell of her hips, and skipping lithely across her ribs, so delicate just under her soft skin…

…teasing the curve of her breasts with my extended thumbs, letting them catch and drag along the outer perimeter as I continued my upward path…

By the time my hands stopped moving, they were entwined with hers, raising her arms high above her head – back bowed, body stretched tautly, and tits jutted assertively out at me. Untangling my fingers from hers, I wrapped her hands around the iron bars of my headboard. "Hold on, and don't you dare let go, Isabella," I whispered into her ear, giving her lobe a warning nip, and nearly moaning myself when her own breathy, staccato one caused her puckered nipples to graze my chest.

My hands began their descent, so eager to touch her, to claim her, that it was all I could do to keep their pace steady and slow…

…over the ridge of her collarbones, they slip down…

…down…

…down…

…only slowing – just a hair – when my fingers dragged over her puckered peaks. Unable to resist, when I reached the bottom, I cupped her full breasts, feeling the weight of them against my palms…

With a loud groan, my body seized, my jizz shooting out of me, pooling on my shirt-covered stomach, and drizzling over my hand. _Fuuuck! _Not only had I barely begun to touch her in memory…_or me, in reality_…before I came, I didn't remember pulling my dick out of my pants in the first place! It was fucked up on _so many_ levels. A quick glance at my alarm clock told me that I needed to get ready if I wanted to make my shift on time. Hopping in the shower, I found myself wondering how she had gained so much power over me that, even after all that time, just her memory could bring me to my knees.

I thought again of Alice's news and, for the first time since Bella had left, I began to feel something other than heartbreak – I started to get pissed. How could she be moving on already? _How?_ I was still pining for her like a love-sick fool, and she was starting anew with some unknown dude. The small rational voice I was ignoring in the back of my head told me that I was acting like a douche. Bella pined for me for five years, and I was bitching about carrying a torch for less than a year. Well, I'd only admitted to it that long ago. In reality, I'd been in love with her for nearly as long as I'd known her.

Rationally, I knew I had no reason to be angry with Bella, and I couldn't begrudge her moving on, but logic could not prevail over emotion, and the asshole I used to be couldn't be silenced. Deciding to re-emerge after months of oppression by the whiny bitch I'd become, he was in a foul fucking mood. Of course, thinking about Bella while soaping myself up in the shower in which I'd fucked her on several occasions only served to make me hard, despite having just come minutes before. _Why not_, I thought – wasn't like I was getting any – so I lathered up my hand.

Slowly stroking myself, I pictured Bella naked, her brown hair almost black as the water cascaded over it, breasts pressed into the tile wall, perky ass poked out, pink from my hips slapping firmly against hers as I took her from behind…_fuuuuuck! _I remembered the noises she would make – soft sighs and whimpers, throaty moans, and how sometimes, her mouth would fall open, but she wouldn't make any noise at all. Taking myself more firmly in-hand, I was just getting down to serious business, when I had a realization mid-stroke, and jerking off suddenly lost its appeal. I tugged on my dick a couple more times in vain. I was still hard, but couldn't find any satisfaction in my own hand, and I was pissed.

I hadn't fucked _anyone_ in damn near a year – not since the meadow desecration_ – _and why the hell not? If Bella could fuck other people – _and Lord knew she had_, I thought, remembering her pressed against her refrigerator in New York – then so could I. The familiar anticipatory tingle of excitement that comes from knowing you're going to fuck someone new crept up my spine. I wanted to resist reverting to _that _guy, to prove to Bella that I could be what she needed and deserved, and that I'd meant what I'd said, but it was so much easier to allow my anger to lead me back to bad habits. _Old habits do die hard._

Somewhere deep inside, I felt that fucking someone else was giving up any chance of ever getting her back – was admitting defeat – but I still knew I was going to do it, and I hated myself for it. _Might as well give in, you can't change who you really are._ Bella had made it perfectly clear she didn't want me, and what, was I supposed to be celibate for the rest of my life? I didn't fucking think so. As angry as I was, all I could think about was plunging inside Bella's slick warmth – which made me angrier – and since I couldn't have her, I would have to settle for replacement pussy. The asshole won.

Decision made, I was oddly okay with it; happy to not be fighting my nature any longer. I may have also gained a small amount of satisfaction from showing Bella that I could move on, too.

I finished getting ready and headed to the hospital with every intention of getting some tail, but I'd been ignoring the flirting attempts for so many months, that I'd become oblivious to it, and I was having trouble tapping into the charm I was known for. _Not so suave anymore, huh, motherfucker?_ It was almost as if I'd forgotten how; it felt unnatural – especially in the hospital. Though I was almost certain he'd never said any such thing in his life, I could almost hear my father saying, '_There's a time for sex, fun, and games, but it's not when you're on shift with lives hanging in the balance, and in your hands_.'

Whether the advice was his or something manufactured by my conscience was irrelevant; it was a good rule to follow, and I went with it. I'm a good-looking guy, there would be plenty of pussy available when I was off duty. Maybe I'd take Charlotte up on her routine drink offer. For just a second, I allowed myself to think about _taking_ Char _while _she was up on her knees, and then I smacked myself for thinking like a dick…_with my dick was closer to the truth._ After Tanya, I'd learned my lesson about shitting where I sleep…_and fucking people in my med program._

I could still take Char up on her offer, though. It would be good for her to see who I really was. Maybe it would discourage her from making the mistake of pursuing me; I would hate to lose a good study partner. By the time our shift ended that day, I'd recognized my bravado for what it was, and was grateful that her customary offer wasn't proffered.

My days took on a new pattern. I'd wake up thinking of Bella before jerking off to memories of Bella, causing me to grow (irrationally) angrier with Bella, which would prompt me to commit to executing operation 'Get Your Rocks Off With a Hot Blonde' that day, but I never did. Instead – every day – I would pussy out, go home, get drunk, beat off – _again_ – to things I wished I'd done with Bella, become angry with myself for being such a pussy-whipped…uh, pussy, and then I'd pass out, only to wake up and start the whole process over the next day. _Yeah, my life was a barrel of fucking fun._

It took me more than two weeks after deciding on the course of action to actually work up the courage…_or became stupid enough_…to carry it out, but I eventually did. Having lost my balls yet again, heading home on a Thursday night. While stopped at a red light, I noticed a bar and an empty parking space on the corner and, on compulsion, found myself parallel parking without having made the decision to do it. It wasn't until I walked inside that I recognized the place. All of the emotions, sensations and thoughts from that night flooded back…_Nice date, Bella_…_Say it…'please' what_…_I love fucking you_.

I made my way to the only open seat at the bar which was – just my fucking luck – the exact same one I'd sat in that night. I frantically scanned the bar for another empty seat…_there had to be another open stool_…to no avail. I could have grabbed a table, but I knew from experience the bar was the best place to sit if you were looking to score. Sitting at a table made chicks think you were either there with someone or that you were waiting on someone, and they weren't likely to approach.

I almost turned around and walked out the door – I probably _should have_ just gone home, but I needed a stiff drink, maybe several, to eradicate my memories of that night. It had been more than a year ago…_almost fourteen and a half months to the day, actually_…that she'd sat on my lap looking so utterly defeated after I'd collapsed to the bathroom floor in the very bar I was sitting in. I didn't want that image in my head any longer, so I sat down on the stool and ordered a drink.

"Keep 'em coming," I instructed the bartender before slamming the tumbler of whiskey back.

Drink after drink after drink passed my lips, and when I could no longer feel my limbs, I was finally free…_mostly._ I was also just drunk enough to at least act receptive to the obvious advances of the women eye-fucking me from across the bar. Optimizing my chances of getting laid, I waited with a smirk for one of them to grow a pair and approach me. I had my pole in the water for an hour before I got a bite…in the form of a drink being placed in front of me.

"The little lady at the end of the bar sent this over here for ya'," the bartender said. I picked up the glass, and glanced at the end of the bar. Meeting the hungry gaze of a sloe-eyed Italian beauty, I raised my glass in _salut_, took a swig, and with a gesture, invited her to join me. I would have gone to her, but I didn't think I could walk that well, and prey was easier to catch when separated from the herd.

A couple of drinks later, and we were exploring each other's mouths like the survival of the world depended on it. All the booze I'd imbibed throughout the evening was running strong through my veins, and I didn't care about anything except for her lips on mine. With her dark hair and darker eyes, she became Bella in my hazy mind. Things began to run together, and time began to leap so that there were chunks of minutes that I couldn't account for. Her hand grazed my cock, more whiskey, my hand crept up her skirt, should we go to her place or mine, and then…

I woke up convinced that the entire percussion section of the Seattle Symphony Orchestra had taken up residence in my cranial cavity…_possibly with special guests Jason Bonham, Lars Ulrich, Tommy Lee, and maybe the drummer from Rush; I really hate Rush._ Trying to move as little as possible, I rolled to my side, sneaking a quick peek through squinty eyes at the clock. White hot pokers pierced my pupils, the throbbing compounding the pounding in head and causing my stomach to heel and pitch.

Closing my eyelids tightly and clutching my aching head in my hands, I groaned in agony, setting off a coughing fit as my parched throat rebelled. I was in hell, but had no right to complain since it was of my own making. When all my various grievances finally stopped pinging off of one another like a fucking pinball machine, I sat up and cracked my eyelids once again, and realized that I was in a bed that wasn't mine, in a room I didn't recognize, and had no memory of how I got there…or what happened once I'd arrived.

I was still mostly dressed to my relief, but considering my plan for the evening, I wasn't sure that I should have been relieved. Resolved to face whatever, or whomever, I'd done the night prior, I crawled out of the bed, put back on my jeans, and walked out the door. I fleetingly thought of the (hopefully) pretty Italian girl that I'd been drinking with – she'd done this thing with her tongue while we were kissing that was just…_fuck_ – and hoped that she'd been the girl I'd gone home with. If it was her bed I'd just vacated, I was disappointed I couldn't remember what'd happened.

Trying to get my bearings, and maybe a read on the owner of the apartment I was in, I paused in the hall just outside of the bedroom door. The first part proved easy enough as I only had two directions…and one of them was back the way I'd just come. As for the second part, all I learned was that it was definitely a chick's apartment. I started down the short hall, pausing again before coming into view. It was now or never and, since I had places to be, it was now. Two and a half strides, and one deep breath later, and…

_Fuck me up the ass without lube or even the Goddamn common courtesy of a reach around...no! Tell me I didn't. _

Everything in the room faded until it was just her, looking up at me from across the room. I'm sure my horror was evident on my face; I lacked the ability to school my expression into a façade with any semblance of neutrality.

"Ch-charlotte?" I croaked, my voice oddly high pitched, and breaking halfway through her name like my balls hadn't dropped yet. _You didn't fuck her. You didn't fuck her. You didn't fuck her, _I chanted silently, but it wasn't quite able to drown out the voice telling me that I couldn't remember leaving the bar, so being unable to recall having sex didn't necessarily mean I hadn't. _Fucking logic. Sometimes I preferred being unreasonable._

"That is, in fact, my name. Aren't you a smart one. Are you always this astute in the morning?"

"Heh, heh," I chuckled lamely. "Eh…just a – little hungover."

"Can I get you some coffee…maybe some Advil?"

"Yes, please?" I answered, the lilt in my voice turning it into a question. As she set about gathering up some caffeine and acetaminophen for me, I made a poor attempt to find out what had happened the night before; I didn't want to offend her if I had fucked up…_or her_. "So…" I started, dragging the word out. "How'd we, uh…get back here last night?" _Tactful. _

"Your car."

"Right, right. So…did you drive?" I hated other people driving my car…_hated…_and couldn't quite hide my cringe as I asked.

"Edward, don't be a pansy," she huffed. "Just ask the question that has you beating around, not just the bush, but all the landscaping on campus…which you suck at, by the way."

"Did we fuck?" I blurted.

"O-kay – that's one way to ask. Rather blunt, but…" She didn't really seem to be talking to me, so I remained silent and waited expectantly for her answer. "No, we did not." _Thank you, sweet baby Jesus!_ "You, um…certainly tried…" _Maybe not. _"…but I turned you down." _Rewind. What?_

_Wait…_why was I upset that she'd said no? _That was a good thing._

"Oh, good," I stated, sounding less enthusiastic than I should have. "So…how'd I end up here instead of my place? What happened to…Gina?" I looked to Char for confirmation, thinking maybe she would know, and she rolled her eyes.

"Gianna?" I shrugged. _I guess. _ "She was a little trashed…and her fiancé took her home."

I threw my hands in the air, like I was a perp, and she was the fuzz. "Hey, she didn't say anything to me about being attached!"

"Yeah, I got the distinct impression that the two of you didn't really spend much time talking."

Choosing to ignore her, I asked, "So…how'd I run into you?"

"I was actually on a date, and he wanted to stop for drinks after dinner. While he used the restroom…" Char filled me on how the rest of the evening went down after her arrival.

Char was looking for an empty table when a stumbling _Gianna _and I collided with her en route to the door.

"Charlotte!" I exclaimed. "What the hell! Fancy meeting you here. What brings you out?"

Looking around surreptitiously, she answered, "Bad date." She eyed the (trashy and trashed) girl at my side with distaste, and inquired, "You?"

"Just havin' a drink. Have you met…this is – this is my new friend, um…Gina."

"Gianna," the girl said, pointing at herself and giggling like an idiot. I'm sure I rolled my eyes. _I fucking hate giggling. Bella wasn't a giggler. _

"Yeah, thas wha' I said…Gianna. Gi-gi…" stumbling over her name, I gave up and said, "This is my friend Char. We're in med school together at Harborview."

"Ooh! Gorgeous and a future doctor! You're quite the catch, Eddie," she simpered before giggling again insipidly. I sneered, but reminded myself, _You're not fucking her brains, Eddie-boy_, _and she can't giggle if she's screaming your name_.

Her good breeding shining through, Char smiled politely, and said, "Nice to meet you, Gianna. Um, I've gotta find my date, so… I'll see you tomorrow, Edward."

The only excuse I can come up with for what happened next is that I wasn't ready for her to go. _I'm aware of what a shit excuse that is._ Char began to edge away, and I leapt into action.

"Wait! Don't go yet. You should have a drink with me and Gia-gina." I peeled the night's catch off me, and clumsily grabbed for Charlotte to keep her from walking away, accidentally catching her tit instead of her arm. "Oops" I announced loudly, but didn't let go. Crickets chirped…_at least that's what it felt like_…as the three of us silently stared at my hand gripping Char's tit, until one of us finally snapped out of the stupor that had descended.

"Edward! Seriously!" Char yelled, swatting my hand away.

She opened her mouth to speak, but Gianna, looking slightly panicked, asked, "Do you know where the ladies' room is?" _Did I know where the ladies room was? Ha! I was intimately acquainted with it._

I pointed in the direction of it, and she rushed off, some guy immediately on her heels, chewing her out. "Who the hell was that guy, Gianna? Huh? The wedding is in less than a month and…"

"Well, guess you won't be taking her home tonight," she said with a sigh.

It didn't even faze me. I tossed my arm over Char's shoulder, and towed her towards the bar. "Lemme buy ya' a drink, Charlotte."

"Edward, I don't think you need…"

I silenced her with a carefully placed finger. "Shhh! Just one. I owe ya."

"Fine," she relented, looking around for her misplaced date. "One drink, and then you're going home and to bed."

"Okay, Ma."

"…so, I ditched my date, and had a drink with you. You offered me a ride home since mine had left, but you were in no shape to drive. I got you back to your car, but you passed out and I didn't know where you lived. My place was close…so I just brought you here.

"You got a little bit handsy on the way inside, and somehow dragged me to my bedroom while trying to get a throat culture using your tongue. Once I got disentangled from you, it was just easier to let you sleep in my bed than try to wrestle you back to the living room," she finished, my jaw on the floor.

"I'm so…fuck. I can't tell you how sorry I am, Char. I was fucked up, but I didn't mean to…you know. There's no excuse for such reprehensible behavior," I stuttered, more than a little mortified and appalled. Abashed, I was unable to make eye contact, and looked at my feet as I scratched the back of my neck. "I really am sorry."

"Don't worry about it. No biggie," she said dismissively, but the way she said it made it sound as if it was a big deal.

"Um…I should probably get going. I've inconvenienced you enough, and I still have to go home to shower and shit before our shift."

"No shift today. We have a conference at three."

"Oh, yeah. Right. Well, I should still probably…"

"Yeah."

"Look, I really am sorry for trying to take advantage of you last night, but I appreciate you looking out for me. You didn't have to, and I shouldn't have repaid you by acting like a complete dick."

"Really, it wasn't…" She shook her head, and waved it off with her hand.

"Sure, sure. I guess I'll see you later then."

"Yeah, later."

As I walked out the door, I could have sworn I heard her say, "You were acting like a dick long before we got back here, but whatever…" I shrugged it off – it was for the best, after all – but I still felt like an asshole. I didn't need to fuck around with her. She was a nice girl, who would only get hurt by a guy like me. _And, if I was honest, she wasn't Bella._

Things with Charlotte were chilly for a few days and weird even longer than that, but eventually it passed, and she actually became a good friend. I confided in her about Bella. Not all the gory details, partially because it would have killed me to have to relive all the ways I treated Bella like shit, but some of it. The other reason I kept the whole sordid story to myself was because if she realized how big a piece of shit I was, there was no way she would stick around, and I didn't exactly have a ton of friends.

The few 'friends' – more like acquaintances, really – I'd had outside of my family prior to Bella leaving hadn't been close enough with me to bother sticking around when I'd gone into isolation. A few unreturned calls here, a couple of '_nah, man I can't make its_', and suddenly they forgot they ever knew me. It was nice to have a friend that was just mine, someone who was removed from the mess I'd made with Bella. Char listened with a sympathetic ear, and didn't tell me everything I'd done wrong or judge…_not that she knew the whole story_. She said I'd flagellated myself enough, and I told her that sounded like something dirty. We laughed.

Our friendship – on my end – started mostly out of guilt over molesting her; I really did feel like a prat, and needed to make it up to her despite not having intentionally pawed at her. _Well, maybe not sober, but the drunk me had sure as hell intended. The drunk me would've fucked anything, though, so long as it had a pussy and a pulse._

We didn't hang out much more often than we had been before then – just our usual study sessions, at the hospital for our clerkship and its mandatory conferences – and we still restricted our interactions to public places, but we did occasionally get together for reasons other than academia. We'd meet up now and again for a drink, once she had an extra ticket for a concert, and a couple of times she needed someone to attend some event or other with her, but it was never big deal, and they _weren't_ dates. She knew we were just friends; I was always very clear about that.

I did eventually carry out my plan a few weeks after my failed attempt. She was a random undergrad with a pretty face, nice rack, the personality of a Labrador…_ya' gotta ball, ya' gotta ball; come on, lemme play with your balls_…and seemed much more intelligent when my dick was in her mouth. She was perfect; exactly the kind of ride I needed for my first time back in the saddle after such a long time off the rodeo circuit. So, why had it been so difficult?

I hadn't even _really _enjoyed myself while I was with her. There I was, balls deep inside her, and all I could think about was how I was betraying _Bella_, how I was proving _Bella _and everyone else right – I couldn't stop fucking around. I was almost unable to perform because I couldn't turn my mind off. The only way I could stay hard was to imagine she was Bella, but the girl's fake moans kept shattering the image, and I finally had to just flip her over to muffle them with her pillow. _Seriously, bitch sounded like she was auditioning to be in a Jenna Jameson movie._

By the time she managed to stay quiet long enough for me to consider getting off, she had come more than once and seemed to be on the verge of passing out. She could barely hold herself up, which was fine with me since it shoved her face further into her pillow. Luckily, it didn't take me long to finish; I don't fuck unconscious chicks. _On principle. Plus, it's no fun when they're unresponsive._ I pulled out, and with me no longer holding her hips, she fell over, curled up – the pillow now clutched to her naked body – and panted, "That was fucking incredible." I didn't agree, and she passed out seconds later, so I didn't have to.

I booked it out of there like she was my baby mama and my child support check was late. Consumed and overwhelmed by disgust, I just wanted to go home. I mean, what the fuck? Edward fucking Cullen does not have problems getting it up, and definitely does not have difficulty keeping it up. It was one thing for her to affect my desire to get pussy, but it was another thing entirely for her to affect my performance, and it wasn't going to be tolerated.

So, while sitting in the cab on the way home, drunk and full of self-loathing, I decided that abstinence wasn't really as bad as people made it out to be, and it came with the added benefit of no performance issues. _Yeah, I was self-delusional._ I was feeling like a real piece of shit by the time I got home and passed out. I was determined to put the whole incident behind me, but it ate away at me until finally, about a week later, I had to confess to someone…I just hadn't planned that when I did so, I would inadvertently confess it to my sister, Rose, Emmett, and Jasper. _I was the world's biggest fucking idiot._ They weren't happy. _Go fucking figure. _

I hadn't been able to focus, so Char declared studying was out, drinking was in. I chose a random watering hole that was too much of a dive for Alice and Rose to consider entering…or so I thought.

"…she was hot, and I should have enjoyed every second of it – a year ago, I probably would have – but she wasn't her?" Char listened attentively with an intangible expression on her face while I droned on – in more detail than what was strictly necessary, I'm sure – about the girl I'd hooked up with a little over a week ago.

I was about to explain how conflicted I felt over what I'd done – eager to hear what she would have to say, hoping it would ease my conscience – and I realized how much I missed having someone to confide in, especially someone impartial and uninvolved. Before my friendship with Char, I'd gone to Bella or Jasper if I needed to talk about something…_and if I couldn't go to either of them, I'd just fuck a hot chick, and let myself believe that made me feel better_…and, being unable to talk to them, I'd been bottling everything up. As much as I hated admitting, even if just to myself, that Alice was right, I had to admit, _reluctantly_, how unhealthy it really was to live that way. _I guess it was true – no man really was an island._

"I can't understand," I began, "why I feel so guilty for fucking someone else when she's moved on, and I don't stand a chance in hell of getting her back? It's not like I owe her any loyalty; she doesn't want me, and by moving on she's made that more than clear."

"Told ya' a leopard never changes his spots," came a voice like nails on a chalkboard. _Fucking Rose. What. The. Motherfuck?_

Slightly bleary eyed, but on my way to drunk as fuck and wishing I was already there, I turned around to find the whole gang – who I hadn't seen in its entirety since the time Char and I had run into them – staring at me. _Of all the shit luck!_ Bars were obviously not a good place for me to be hanging out. They seemed to go hand in hand with trouble for me.

I ignored Rose's comment. "To what do I owe the pleasure? You guys stalking me now, hoping to ruin another night for me or something?"

"Pure coincidence, actually," chirped the harbinger of doom formerly known as Malice. _Wonder what the symbol for that would be?_

"Just plain bad luck for us is more accurate. Don't think so highly of yourself, 'cause it's not deserved; we have better things to do than follow you around. "

"Rose," Emmett started, playing the peace keeper…_Rottweiler handler, whatever_...for once, "come on, babe, play nice. He didn't do anything to you."

"Fuck you, Em!" Rose spat. "It's so like you to take his side. Your brother is a piece of shit, and the sooner you admit it, the better off you'll be."

"Rose, outside. Now!" my brother barked in a tone that I'd rarely heard from him, but brokered no disobedience, and Rose blanched, knowing he was beyond pissed off. With one last seething glance at me – teeth grinding in indignation – she walked stiffly toward the entrance with Emmett on her heels.

"Well, it's been a bundle of fun as always, but we're gonna bail. I've gotta go pull my teeth out with a pair of pliers, and then pour hot oil on my balls."

"Ed, man – don't be like that. You know how she is," said Jasper, trying to send chill vibes my way. It usually worked, but I wasn't having it right then.

"Yeah, I do, but the few times I've had the misfortune of seeing her the past few months, she's been an even bigger bitch than usual. I don't know if I'm gonna be able to handle bitchzilla during the wedding. Maybe you should replace me as best man, and Em can find someone else to fill your vacated groomsman spot."

"I don't think so, little bro. You _will_ be my best man even if you have to be roped, hogtied, and sedated to do it. No offense, Jas." Emmett.

"None taken, man."

I had my back to the door again, and hadn't seen him come in. For a big guy, he really was quite agile and – large, crowded bar notwithstanding – could move nearly silently; it was kind of a nuisance, not to mention really fucking annoying.

"Dude, wear a bell or something. Stop sneaking the fuck up on people. That shit's not cool," I said, turning to face him. "Where's your bitchy betrothed? Stealing candy from small children, or pushing little old ladies down?"

"Very funny, dick."

"Ah, speak of the devil, and she appears."

"That's enough you two!" Em bellowed, drawing the attention of everyone within a twenty foot radius. "Rose, you're going to stop acting like such a bitch to Edward; and Edward, you're going to lay off the insults and name calling. For the rest of the evening, you're both going to act like adults, got it?"

"Yes," Rose agreed, snipping the 's' off sharply.

"Whatever," I unenthusiastically acquiesced. I wasn't planning to stay long.

"Okay, then. I'm gonna grab a round at the bar. Char, 'Wardo – what'll it be?"

I glanced at Char – having once again forgotten her presence – letting her know with a glance that we could leave. Surprisingly, considering her indoctrination…_more like vaccination_…to the joys of hanging with the gang, she smiled softly, shook her head almost imperceptibly, and gave Emmett her order. I shrugged, as if to say, 'I warned ya', don't blame me when the shit hits the fan,' and reluctantly asked for another Long Island, simultaneously shifting to sit beside Char. It was a better position in which to protect her, and allowed me to keep an eye on my family. _Lucy, I got a bad feeling about this!_

"So, Charlotte, how've you been?" Alice was feeling her out, prepping her for intense dirt-digging, and I knew it. She couldn't just accept that we were only friends, because she didn't believe in platonic friendships…_which I blamed Jasper for since he was the only male, non-family member that Alice had ever really hung out with regularly, and she ended up fucking him. Cringe. _

"Just ignore her, Char. It's okay. She never shuts up, so you learn to just tune her out after awhile," I advise.

"Edward! You're such an ass sometimes," Char chided me with an affectionate smack to my arm that I knew would only fuel Alice's 'more than friends' conspiracy theory. Rose scoffed loudly, but prevented from spewing any of her bitchy anti-Edward propaganda by Emmett's re-appearance. _I've never been…well, rarely have I been so grateful for his presence._

"I've been good. Busy with med school, like Edward, but good. How've you been?" Char was too nice; a good thing for me, but a bad thing for her and for same reason – tolerating me and my familial baggage.

"Me too…well, not the med school part, just the busy, but good bit. So, what's up with you and my brother now?" I almost repeated the spit-take I'd done the first time my family bumped into Char and I.

"Alice! What the fuck?" "Excuse me?" Char and I asked simultaneously, both incredulous.

"Well, you're a hermit, and this is the second time we've seen you two together at a bar!" True, but it didn't lessen my urge to kill her. I couldn't believe this was happening again. _Fuck déjà vu, this was the fucking Twilight Zone._

"It's still none of your business, but we're just friends," Charlotte informed her.

Snorting, Rose snidely stated in a not-quite-under-her-breath tone, "Bullshit! Edward 'Fucking' Cullen doesn't do 'just friends'."

"That's it! I've had enough! Yeah, Edward fucked up, he hurt your friend and caused her to leave you, but she left him, too…and none of you were – or still are – in love with her. At least she gave all of you a second chance. He has to live every day with the regret of knowing he lost her. I would think, being his family and friends, that you would be happy he has someone on his side – it's not like any of you have been there for him – but no! You constantly judge, and tear him down instead. You should be ashamed of yourselves."

Leveling each of them with a withering glare, she tossed back the rest of her drink, and then turned to me. "I'm ready to leave if you are, Edward."

I nodded and stood up, indicating with a wave of my arm that she should lead the way. Finding my voice as I passed Emmett sitting at the head of the table, I haltingly said, "Uh, later…I guess."

I was distracted as I left, but I wasn't so preoccupied that I missed the significant look Alice shot my way; I was certain I'd be receiving a visit from her soon.

Not wanting to leave my car parked at a bar overnight, Char offered to drive.

"You can leave your car at my place for the night, and call a cab. Problem solved!" she informed me, plucking my keys from my hand, and then adding in a rush, "You're also more than welcome to crash on my couch, or even just hang out until you're sober enough to drive if you want; it's up to you."

"That works for me." And it did. It would give me the chance to apologize to her – again – for my family's shitty behavior, and also, embarrassingly enough, thank her for standing up for me. If I did them during the drive, I wouldn't have to make eye contact…_being defended by a girl wounded my pride a bit, sexist as that may be_. Unfortunately, I either got lost in my thoughts, and the drive passed me by, or we'd been much closer to her apartment than I thought, because we were parked in front of her building before I knew it, and I hadn't said a word.

"Do you want me to wait with you until your cab gets here?" she asked, assuming I wouldn't choose either option that involved entering her apartment. She'd obviously picked up on the fact that at some point that her apartment was a 'no fly zone' for me. Except for the one time…_when I'd molested her_…neither of us had been in the others apartment; Char didn't even know where I lived. But I wasn't ready to go home to my empty apartment…plus, I had yet to apologize or thank her.

"Actually, I was kinda thinking I could come up for a bit, if that's okay. At least until I can drive."

Char swiveled her head around sharply…_fleetingly reminding me of _TheExorcist…and stared at me with wide, disbelieving eyes. "Really?"

"Yeah…I mean, unless you've changed your mind."

"Yes! I mean, no…I mean, that's fine. No, I haven't changed my mind. Come up, yeah." Stopping, she took a deep breath and then gave smiled at me only slightly unsteadily. "Sorry, I'm just surprised. We never…"

"Yeah…I know. I'm not really ready to go back to my Fortress of Solitude just yet," I admitted sheepishly, causing her smile to widen, and smooth out.

"You call your apartment your 'Fortress of Solitude'? That's pretty nerdy, Edward, even for you," she teased, and then added easily, "Come on up."

"Have a seat and I'll be right back," she said, indicating the couch before disappearing down the hall, leaving me alone in the silence of her living room.

Fretting as the minutes ticked by, I began to tug at my hair nervously, and reconsider calling a cab. I had almost convinced myself to do it, when she finally reemerged – fresh-faced and clothed in pajama pants, a matching wife beater with a hoodie over it, and…square frames perched on her nose? My hands stilled in my hair mid-tug, and I gaped at her…_I didn't know she wore glasses_…not expecting the change. It suited her.

"Sorry, I was feeling kind of grungy; I had to change. Plus, I needed to take my contacts out."

Saying the first thing that came to me, I brilliantly blurted, "I didn't know you wore contacts."

Instead of sitting down as I expected, she continued on to the kitchen, rustling around in the cupboards and opening the fridge as she continued to chat.

"Oh, yeah. I used to wear my glasses more, but they're kind of dorky, and too much of a pain in the ass at the hospital."

"I don't think they're dorky. They look good on you, you should wear them more," I heard myself say. _Where the fuck did that come from, and what the hell prompted me to say that?_

Char laughed and said, "You're just saying that because you're a guy, and all guys harbor a secret librarian-slash-teacher fantasy – bunch of pervs. I'm gonna have a drink. After earlier, I need it," she declared innocently…_sending my mind straight to the gutter_…as she joined me in the living room with a bottle of tequila under her arm – two shot glasses inverted over the lid, rattling against the bottle – a bowl of limes in one hand, and a shaker of salt in the other. "You want one? You could probably use it more than me. Your brother's fiancé is a raging cunt; I don't know how you've managed to not kill her yet."

"Have you seen how much bigger than me Emmett is?"

She laughed. "She really doesn't like you much, does she?"

Scrubbing my hands over my face, I groaned at her words, and slouched down on the couch before snorting, and informing her, "That's putting it mildly. She loathes me."

I removed my hands from my face, and located Char sitting cross-legged on the floor kitty-corner from me at end of the coffee table, with the tequila and all its accoutrements set up neatly on top. She filled the glass in front of her, and then picked up the other one and waggled it at me. I had planned on turning her down, but after she brought up my family, I decided it wouldn't kill me, and nodded. _I would call a cab when I was ready to leave. _Placing the glass in front of me, she poured the shot.

Char licked and salted the skin at the base of her thumb, and then slid the shaker my way so could do the same. Both ready, we picked up our shot glasses and held them aloft.

"To assholes, and not taking any guff from those swine!" Char toasted.

"To assholes!" I echoed, and we slammed the shots back, before biting down on one of the tart, juicy limes slices from the bowl. Discarding my lime with Char's on the table – _fuck it, it'll wipe off_, she'd said with a shrug upon realizing she didn't bring a bowl for the used limes – I stared at her appraisingly, and snarked, "Fear and Loathing, Char? You don't strike me as a Hunter S. Thompson fan."

"No, but I am a Johnny Depp fan. I have the DVD, you wanna watch?" She didn't bother to wait for an answer, hopping up and putting it in almost before I could process an answer.

Unable to help laughing, I mumbled, "Typical chick."

"Do you not wanna watch? I can turn it off." I didn't think she meant it, because it was already playing, and she made no move to turn it off. She was busy pouring another round of shots.

"We can watch it. I like the movie, but you know that only liking the movie makes you a poser, right? No one should claim to be a Fear and Loathing fan without having read the book."

We took our shots, and seamlessly resumed our conversation from where we left off.

"Who says I haven't read the books? I just said I loved the movie."

"Well, why didn't you say you read the book?"

"I like the movie better! The book was good and all, but the movie was phenomenal."

"It is a damn good movie, and both Johnny Depp and Benicio del Toro were brilliant in it. I can't think of any other actors who would have been better suited for the roles."

"Here, here! I agree," she shouted, and then sobered and abruptly changed the topic. "So, why does Rosalie hate you so much, if you don't mind my asking? It seems like there is more to it than just your guys' friend in New York."

I didn't really want to discuss it, but it was fair I told her. Having relaxed back against the couch as we joked around, I sat up straight, and slid to the edge. "May I?" I asked, gesturing towards the uncapped bottle of tequila on the table.

"Have at it." She slid her shot glass toward me, and I poured us each another.

The moment I discarded the lime on the pile, I poured us each a rapid-fire second shot and cried, "Cannonball it! Cannonball coming!"

When that lime too was discarded on the pile, and before she could speak, I explained, "I can't paint Rose as a complete barracuda, just because her and I clash. She's loyal as fuck to those she loves, and when it comes down to it, I know that she would be there – grudgingly – if I ever needed her to bail my ass out of trouble…she's family. However, Rose isn't exactly the most sensitive person, and she has her reasons for it; she's had to develop a thick skin over the years. You've noticed she's a total bombshell, right?"

Char nodded.

"Well, she's also really smart – bloody brilliant, actually – but no one's really noticed that about her once she grew into her looks. She's been treated like a piece of meat, coveted for her looks, and pursued unscrupulously for years, and because of it she gets treated like shit by other chicks. The thing is, Rose is a huge walking contradiction. As much as she hates that her looks overshadow her intelligence, she can't stand not being the center of attention.

"I offend both sides of her: the nerd, and the attention whore. Her bitchy, princess-attitude, and sense of on-her-terms-entitlement pissed me off from day one, so I refused to give her the time of day. She hit on me once – before she met Emmett," I clarified, and then quickly added, "He doesn't know. Anyway, I blew her advances off, and she's never entirely gotten over it." It didn't matter that I was still a virgin at the time it had happened. Even if I hadn't been, I still would have turned her down, though. _She'd always been such a bitch!_

I poured another round of shots. It was confession time, and I hadn't exactly told her about my past…dalliances. She knew of some of my screwing around in college – rumors get around – but she didn't know the full extent of my whoring around. I needed to prepare myself for the outcome. Tossing yet another lime on the pile, I spoke again.

"That's not all though. I had quite the, um…repu-taaation," _for some reason, I dragged the word out like I was Bill Lumberg and needed her to come in on Saaa-turday,_ "in high school. I could, and did, get any girl I wanted. It was always just sex – I didn't do relationships and the girls always knew that – but still, there was always a group of girls who were willing. Emmett used to jokingly call them the Cullen Coven of Cunts." I couldn't help the chuckle that slipped out, but quickly reeled it in when I caught the barely disguised dismay on her face.

"I know, I know…" I held my hand up, stopping her, "…it was offensive, and disgusting – believe me, Rose kicked his ass when she found out – it's just…you'd have to know Emmett. He's like an overgrown kid with no filter, and at the time he'd just discovered what alliteration was so he was constantly…forget it. Anyway…"

I explained to her – in limited detail, because I'm a selfish douche – about the youthful indiscretions…_whoring around, whatever_…that contributed to Rosalie's dislike of me. The entire time, I worried that when I was finished, she too would see me for the piece of shit I was, but I didn't give her enough credit.

"…so to Rose, I represent every douchebag she's ever met who thinks he's God's gift to women, and cock of the walk," I finished lamely, a couple shots later. "Do you hate me now?"

"I'm not gonna lie, Edward, regardless of whether you were honest about your intentions or not you treated women like shit, _but_…you're obviously not that guy anymore, and don't deserve to have your past held against you. Rose was wrong, people _can_ change, and I can't believe they don't see how much you have. Don't let your past, or your family, or the girl who broke your heart, or _anyone_ define who you are."

I didn't know what to say; the whole situation made me feel odd, so I poured another shot to cover up my discomfort. I had no clue how many shots we'd had by that point, but the bottle was closer to empty than full, and on top of what I'd had at the bar, I was definitely well past drunk. I knew I should call a cab, but I still wasn't ready to be alone.

Sensing I needed a moment, Char turned her attention to the flatscreen on the wall across from us, and then broke the tension by squealing, "Oooh! One of my favorite fucking parts is coming up!"

Turning up the volume, she moved away from the end of the table, and slid over on the floor, situating herself next to my legs with her back against the couch. "Shot time!" she shouted, pouring another round.

Allowing myself to enjoy her company guilt-free for a moment, I laughed at her, and slid off the couch to join her on the floor. I held my shot aloft, and toasted, "To good friends in shitty times!"

"And good!" she added. We slammed our glasses down on the coffee table, and she immediately poured another round. She smirked at me, and recited, "Cannonball it! Cannonball it right back...then one more of these right on top of it!" _She thought she was so good, but it was on…like Donkey Kong._

We tipped them back, and then got into a Caddyshack Quote-Off, slamming back shots between each round until we ran out of limes, and the bottle was virtually empty.

I placed my bet… "_People say I'm an idiot because all I do is cut lawns for a living_."

Charlotte saw, but didn't raise… _"People don't say that about you…"_

"…_as far as you know!" _we shouted together, and erupted in laughter.

The round was a draw.

_And cheers!_

My bet again…_ "I'll be working in a lumber yard for the rest of my life." _

Char again saw it, and this time raised… _"What's wrong with lumber? I own two lumber yards."_

I re-raised…_ "I notice you don't spend much time there."_

"_I'm not sure where they are,"_ we recited together again.

Another draw.

_Bottoms up!_

We downed another shot to seal the tie, making it official, and then Char realized that she missed the scene she'd been so excited about.

"Rewind! Gary Busey is such mess! I love him, though," she announced happily, to which I smiled dopily.

The room was starting to spin…or maybe it had been spinning for a while, I wasn't sure, but I decided it didn't matter. Feeling pleasantly sloshy, I closed my eyes and let my head fall back to rest on the seat of the couch. I drunkenly reviewed the night's events, and was pleasantly surprised that what had started off as a shit night capping off a shit day, had turned out okay. I was actually having fun for the first time in…well, since then. I couldn't believe the quote-off had ended in a draw; Char had been a formidable foe. Bella was the only person who'd ever come close to equaling me at the game. _Technically_, she'd beaten me a few times, but she'd cheated, so none of them counted. _To this day, I couldn't hear, 'If you're not first, you're last," without getting a hard-on._

Minus the Rosalie conversation, the general levity of the whole evening, and the genuine happiness bathing me in warmth…_or maybe that was the tequila_…combined to give me wicked déjà vu. It felt eerily as if I had lived through some version of that night countless times, and then I suddenly realized I had…with Bella. Instead of freaking out over the realization, I let myself enjoy it; with my eyes closed, I could almost pretend that she was in the room with me. Even Char's drunken chuckles as she scrolled through the movie in search of the scene she wanted to see, sounded similar to Bella's. _God, I missed her_, but I couldn't remember the last time I'd felt that at ease, and content.

"Found it!" Charlotte declared gleefully, and then scooted back beside me on the floor. I didn't think it was intentional, but she was sitting closer than she had been before. Her side – just barely touching mine, but close enough that I could feel the warmth of her through our clothes – was making it hard to ignore her proximity. Eyes still closed, I registered the sound of the movie resuming, and focused on that instead…

"_Few people understand the psychology of dealing with a highway traffic cop. A normal speeder will panic and immediately pull over to the side. This is wrong. It arouses contempt in the cop heart. Make the bastard chase you. He will follow. But he won't know what to make of your blinker signal that says you are about to turn right. This is to let him know you're pulling off for a proper place to talk. It will take him a moment to realize that he's about to make a 180 degree turn at speed, but you will be ready for it. Brace for the g's, and fast heel-toe work._"

Char recited the lines aloud, and I distractedly mouthed them along with her, while the majority of my mind contemplated what the outcome would be if I were to pull the same maneuver Duke was pulling on-screen. Just imagining the look on Chief Swan's face as he approached my window, caused laughter to bubble forth so uncontrollably that Char looked at me like I was insane, and then purposely bumped shoulder, warning, "Shhh! You're gonna make me miss it again."

It hit me then just how drunk I really was, and I decided that I needed to head home for the night so I could crawl into my bed, and get lost in dreams of Bella. I abruptly quit laughing, and felt the melancholia and anger I'd successfully repressed most of the evening start to return. _Apparently the 'everything's funny' drunk phase had passed, and I was onto the 'overly-emotional and depressed' one. _

"_Look at me in the eyes."_

"_Everything all right?"_

Lifting my head, I turned to Char with the intention of telling her I was going to call a cab. My movement caught her eye, and she faced me – her movements heavy and languorous from the Patròn, and her eyes soft and hooded – still whispering lines along with the movie.

"_May I have a little kiss before you go? I'm very lonely here."_

Reality and something else…_but not fantasy_…blurred, and I wasn't sure whether the words were from the movie, from her, or were expressing my own sentiments…partially. I didn't think I wanted to kiss her, but I was actually very lonely. It had been entirely too long since I had felt affection or physical comfort. Sure, a week prior I'd fucked that girl, but that had been nothing more than sex for the express purpose of getting off…_and even that had been damn difficult_.

When Bella had severed things between us, she had set me adrift, and I desperately wanted to feel connected, not lost in space like I had been. I wanted to matter to someone again, so when Charlotte leaned into me, pressing her lips to mine, I ignored the ringing alarms telling me it was wrong, that she was not who I wanted, and didn't pull away.

I knew and admitted years ago that I was going to Hell; nothing I did at that point was going to change that fact, so why not enjoy the journey there?

"_Oh, Mama," _I thought along with Raoul Duke as he delivered the line.

As if we were both afraid to shatter the fragile bubble of illusion that was making it okay for us to do so, our lips met hesitantly, softly, but then a multitude of things – solitude, anger, need, want, fear, and more – coalesced, and the timid kiss quickly grew heated. Frantic hands, tugging bodies and limbs both this way and that, removed clothes; mouths grew hungry and roamed, trying to devour as much as possible in order to get their fill; and eyes closed, conjuring the images and touches of another lover.

So lost were we in the riptide of forbidden flesh and exposed skin, tongues and teeth, heat and wetness, sensation and pleasurable completion, that in our haste we shoved the coffee table out of the way, the objects clattering to the floor around us going unnoticed. It all happened in a surrealistic haze and, disbelieving, I just flowed with the sensations. I had craved it, needed it…completion.

And then…repletion.

"_Can this really be the end?" _Words danced through my ears as I hovered on the fringed edge of unconsciousness, and when I at last drifted into the darkness, I wasn't sure if it was my own thought or the echo of something I'd heard.

"_I felt raped. The pig had done me on all fronts. _[…]_ This was Death Valley."_

Awareness returned slowly – a hard surface pressing painfully into my hip…a stiff ache in my back…the feel of my skin sticking to a wood floor, and also…to skin_ not mine_? My mouth was dry and my throat raspy, and somebody's sleep-heavy limbs were tangled with mine. I cracked one eyelid and, ever the Cowardly Lion, observed the room's destruction before facing my partner in the devastation. When I finally did risk a glance, it was as bad as I feared and worse.

I knew with certainty that I couldn't run – just disappear with dawn's first light as I was wont to do. No, this – _she_ – was something I would have to face, and I didn't know how to own up to the mistake I'd made to myself, let alone her.

~\*/~

* * *

**Songs Used**  
(In Order of Appearance):  
_The Sweater Song, _Wheezer

**Notes:**  
1. "Cannonball it! […] Cannonball coming!" and "Cannonball it! Cannonball it right back...then one more of these right on top of it!" – Carl Spackler, Caddyshack (the second sentence of the second quote is the missing line from the first quote)

2. Italicized dialogue in the second half of the chapter are quotes from the movies _Caddyshack_ and _Fear and Loathing In Las Vegas,_ respectively.

**A/N:** I know you're probably not happy with me, but you're going to have to trust me; I swear I won't lead you astray. This would be a lot easier if it was like a book, and you could quickly get through the times you don't like very much, but such is the nature of the fanfic beast. However, we are getting closer to daylight, and the next few chapters should – hopefully – come fairly quickly.

Thanks for sticking with me. Feel free to click the review button below to leave me your complaints/concerns, or to tell me how much you hate me, and how badly I'm fucking up my own story. Kidding. Mostly. That was sarcasm, by the way. LOL.

***Recommendations:  
**_Of Kith and Kin_ by Chicklette  
_One Door Closes, Another Opens_ by EBobsessed  
_Beyond Time_ by TKegl  
_The Harder They Fall_ by Ironic Twist  
_There Once Was a King _by Brits23 (C/B)  
_Hide In Plain Sight _by fangmom


	6. Chapter 6 Fear and Love

**Disclaimer: **S. Meyer owns all recognizable characters, plots, etc. Only original content, characters, etc. belongs to author. No copyright infringement intended. Any errors contained herein, are expressly the fault of the authors idiocy, and not her betas.

**Word Count:** 8,226

**A/N: **As always, my undying devotion and eternal gratitude to V for betaing. Char, I am forever in your debt for pushing me to get things right and never letting me settle or take the easy path…especially with this chapter. You both rock more than I can say.

Also, thanks to all of you for reading, and reviewing. I was pleasantly surprised by the reaction to the last chapter. Your reviews were insightful and understanding, and I wanted to say thanks for sticking with me and trusting me. It means a lot. Stick with me just a little longer; we're almost there. You're all lovely.

This took a little longer than anticipated, but I wanted it to be right, and I needed to do a rewrite of most of one time, and rework it in spots after that. I apparently lost my balls, and was pulling to many punches, but it's fixed now so…

Enjoy.

**Chapter 6 – Fear and Love**

We always have a choice, or at least I think we do  
We can always use our voice, I thought this to be true  
We can live in fear, extend ourselves to love  
We can fall below, or lift our selves above…

…I always try so hard to share myself around  
But now I'm closing up again, drilling through the ground…

…I'd love to give myself away, but I find it hard to trust  
I've got no map to find my way amongst these clouds of dust

Fear can stop you loving, love can stop your fear, fear can stop you loving…  
…But it's not always that clear

-Morcheeba

~\*/~

I met Jake for dinner with every intention of giving him a chance…a chance at what, I didn't really know. I knew what kind he thought – expected – I was giving him, and I let him believe his own lie even though deep inside, I didn't know if it could ever be the truth. I loved Jake, but could I ever really _love_ Jake? I didn't have an answer for that.

As I prepared for the evening, I began mentally tabulating a list of Jake's pros and cons. He was funny (pro), but often in a juvenile way (con). He looked out for me (pro), but usually in ways that discounted my opinion (con). He was physically attractive with good personal hygiene (pro), but I didn't know if I was sexually attracted to him (con). _Just because I could appreciate the bouquet, didn't mean I had any interest in sampling it._ On and on I compiled, my list growing, but both sides remained dead even, and I was out of time.

No closer to a solution, and with no small amount of trepidation because of it, I locked my apartment door behind me, and set off to meet him at the restaurant.

Dinner was a far too formal and fancy affair. I felt out of my element, and couldn't seem to relax. Everything felt forced; Jake was too nice and too accommodating, the cloth napkins were too starched, the food was too stuffy…it was all too-too much! And the entire time, I kept wishing to be at dinner with another man, in another state. I couldn't quit comparing him to Edward. He would _never _have taken me to a fancy restaurant to apologize…then again, Edward would never have apologized, but still. Edward knew me – my likes, my dislikes, my fears, my hopes (most of them, at least) – perhaps better than I knew myself.

Sipping the bitter, overpriced wine paired with our entrees, I nonchalantly added the whole dinner-date disaster to Jake's 'con' column. Outwardly, I was all gracious smiles and polite-conversation, but inwardly I was agitated and acting like an ungrateful bitch. I was just really bothered that after months of friendship, Jake still didn't seem to _get _me; he didn't even seem to try. He should have known that clichés – red roses and dinner at a pretentious restaurant – wouldn't impress me (con). The singing telegram (pro) had been inspired, unique even, but the rest of his gesture was stale.

My head was so full of trivial annoyances and judgments that I couldn't concentrate, wanting to crawl out of my skin before the meal was halfway through. By the time we finally finished, it was all I could do not to sprint out the door. I turned down Jake's offer to get me a cab; dinner had left me feeling too suffocated to stand being cooped up again so soon. It was a nice night and only a few blocks to my apartment; I wanted to stretch my legs.

"I'm all right. I think I'm going to walk."

"Okay, I'll come with you then. You know – just to make sure you get home safe, and all."

"That's really sweet of you, but you don't – I'll be fine."

"I know I don't _need_ to, Bells, but I want to."

He sounded so earnest, and seemed so eager to please that I just couldn't find it in me to turn him down. "Okay," I chirped with faux brightness and a forced smile. _Paging Susie Sunshine._ "Let's go!"

I set off, marching at time and a half, not even bothering to see if Jake was behind me or not. Less than a quarter of a block later, there was a tug on my arm, and then Jake slipped his hand in mine, pulling me to him. "Hey there, Jackie Joyner-Kersey! Where ya' running to?"

"Nowhere," I claimed defensively as I took a half step back and then turned toward him to get some much needed distance. "Sorry…was I walking too fast?"

"Practically sprinting," he teased, pulling me back to his side, and then slipping his arm over my shoulder in one smooth move that I would never be able to manage. He was clearly trying to prolong our time together, and I decided to give him this, because he was batshit if he thought I was going to invite him inside.

His easy smile warped into something I assumed was supposed to resemble a smirk, but in my jaded frame of mind, appeared much closer to a leer. "And I don't think you're supposed to physically exert yourself so much this soon after a meal…or maybe that only applies to swimming? Well, better safe than sorry," he joked, but I didn't laugh. Truthfully, I wasn't really listening.

"Bells? Bella? _Ground control to Major Tom!_" Jake waved a paw in front of my face, startling me.

"Huh?"

"Where'd you go just now?"

"Oh, just spaced off. Sorry."

"S'okay. So, I was asking if you wanted to do something Friday?"

"Um…I can't. Angela and Ben leave soon, and that's the only night she has free beforehand, so I promised I'd hang with her. Sorry."

"No biggie. What about Saturday? Weathers s'posed to be nice. We could spend the afternoon at the park?"

"Library."

"Reschedule. Come to the park with me," he whined. _Seriously, grown men shouldn't whine. Not a turn on. _ Con.

"I can't."

"Oh, come on, Bells! Missing one day won't kill you."

"Since when are you the expert on my workload? I'm here for school, Jake, not to live it up. I have a shit-ton of work to do in a short amount of time. I'm moving back to Seattle at the end of February, I have my orals here at the end of March, and will be busy with wedding stuff in between. I need to get my studying done now, while I still have access to the libraries at Butler."

"Sorry," he muttered dejectedly, and then resumed walking, dragging me with.

Jakes arm remained wrapped around me, and although we pressed together physically, two people couldn't have been farther apart in that moment than we were. Both of us nursing ruffled feathers, our perturbed silence seemed to surround us like a physical thing. As if we were The Boy in the Plastic Bubble, our fellow pedestrians gave us a wide berth as they flowed around us. I was adding the moment to the growing checklist of cons…_and trust me, they were really piling up_…when the blinders obscuring my hypocrisy suddenly disappeared.

I wasn't giving Jake a fair shot at anything. Before I had even left my apartment, I had been determined that this was doomed – that we were doomed – and why? Because some asshole with 'Mommy Issues' had fucked me around while fucking half the town, or because he wasn't him? Well, either way, fuck that! Jake might not be Edward, but Edward hadn't turned out to be that great of a catch. Yeah, there was no Romeo and Juliet-type, all-consuming love, but look how that relationship turned out; they both ended up dead.

No one would ever compare to Edward, but at the same time…thank whomever for that! Edward did some really shitty things to me over the years, made me cry countless times, and ripped my out heart. Still, it wasn't all painful memories; I wouldn't have stayed with him otherwise. We had some great times, and I would never feel the way about anyone the way I did about him, but I think I was right when I thought that a fire that burned as bright as we did wasn't meant to – _couldn't_–last.

Just because I would never feel about anyone the way I did about Edward, didn't mean I couldn't feel something for someone, and Jake obviously felt strongly about me. Hell, he claimed to love me – although, I still had my doubts about that, but that was neither here or there. I felt something – _love, _of a sort– for him, too. I might not be able to reciprocate what he felt for me, but maybe…in time, I could learn. Not every love is all-consuming, and so far, that kind of love hadn't really proven to be healthy.

Resigned to accept what Jake could offer me, I let my anger and resentment go, and relaxed into his side, unaware that I'd been holding myself so stiffly in the first place. Jake felt the change in my demeanor, and looked down at me with a timid smile, as if he was worried about my reaction. "You okay now, Bells."

I looked up at him in shock, and he shrugged. "I notice. You might not think I do, but I do notice." He scratched at the back of his neck. "Sorry about the restaurant. I know it was a bit – hoity-toity. I was going to pick somewhere simple, but I didn't want it to be like a normal night out. I wanted to do something nice for you, treat you well. You deserve nice things, Bells."

I took a deep breath. "I'm sorry for being such a complete raging bitch. I hope I didn't ruin dinner."

"Actually, it was kind of amusing watching you squirm, and the look on your face when the waiter took your salad from you mid-bite…" he laughed and shook his head, "…fucking priceless. I thought for sure you'd blow up on him."

"Oh, yeah? How'd that go for ya'?"

"I lost five bucks…to myself. I can't decide if that makes me five dollars richer, or poorer, though."

And just like that, we'd regained our balance.

I snorted. "A question for the ages – kinda like if a tree falls in the woods and no one's there to hear it, does it make a sound?" Jake looked at me blankly. "What came first, the chicken or the egg?" Still blank. "Okay, now I know you're fucking with me. Jackass."

"Of course, I'm not that dumb, Isabella. After all, I was smart enough to befriend you." He stopped us, turned me to face him, and stroked his thumb along my jaw, gazing at me with soft eyes. Warmth bloomed in my chest, but I wasn't sure what it was: affection or regret from the sudden certainty that told me I was going to break his heart.

"We're here," Jake whispered.

"Hmm?" My eyebrows drew together, not understanding him.

"Your building."

Blinking, I raised a little on my toes, looked over his shoulder at the familiar white door of the front entrance of my apartment building, and said, "Oh."

I decided I could analyze my feelings and the warm sensation spreading through me later. For now, I was going to try to roll with it; I was operating entirely too much with my head, and not enough with my heart…or with what I had left of it.

"Well…," he started, only to have me cut him off.

"You wanna walk me up?"

Jake beamed at me with obvious delight. "Yeah. Ms. Swan...," he offered me his arm with an exaggerated courtly bow, "…shall we?"

I curled my arm around his, resting my hand in the crook of his elbow, and he lead me to the door. He held it open, directing me inside with a sweeping gesture, and entered behind me before offering me his arm again, leading me up the stairs. When we reached my door, I released his arm and busied myself with finding my keys. Once the deadbolt was unlocked, I turned to face him, trying to ignore the awkwardness swirling around us. I hated this part – the goodnight at the door – it always made me doubt myself. I should have said goodbye in front of the building, but I suppose that wouldn't have been any better; there would have been spectators to view our fumbling.

"Thanks for dinner…and everything. It was really nice."

"Bella, you know you were miserable. Just admit it." He smiled widely, and I laughed.

"Well, it was just so stuffy and pretentious. I mean, my God! My napkin was so starched, it may have been possible to use it as a weapon." We both chuckled, the levity easing our discomfort for a moment, but then it passed and we were floundering at square one again. "Really, though – you went to a lot of effort, and that's what counts."

"Thanks for joining me…and for the rest. Well, I should…" he trailed off with a sigh, pointing over his shoulder. "Early class tomorrow, you know how it goes."

"Right, right. Okay. Oh hey, I was thinking –" I stopped abruptly, mouth open, unsure of what I had been planning to say; of _what_ tosay.

"You were thinking? Really? That could be dangerous." Jake beamed at me rakishly, and I shakily laughed.

"Yeah, um…I was thinking that I could probably skip out of the library early on Saturday, and meet you at the park say…after three. It might be nice to get out of the stuffy library for a bit…but I could only stay for a couple hours." Jake stared at me blankly without saying a word, causing my rambling to continue. "I mean, if the offer's still there. I don't wanna presume, or anything…"

He finally smiled, and I trailed off. "How's two work for ya? Meet me across from the Met?"

"'Kay," I agreed.

Silence swallowed us up yet again. In the unnatural still of the hallway, every sound we made seemed magnified – the rustling of our clothing rumbled like distant thunder, every inhaled and exhaled breath undulating like the gusting wind and crashing water at the coast during a storm. Under the scrutiny of the glaring silence, we both shifted, the echoes of our shuffling feet bearing testimony to our discomfort, so I decided to put us out of our misery. Jake clearly wasn't going to step up and do it. Unlocking my door, I let the evening come to an end. "Well – thanks for the lovely evening. I'm gonna…"

My eyes downcast, I pushed it open a hair, indicating that I was going inside. "I guess I'll see you Saturday then, yeah?"

Jake said nothing, but I caught movement out of the corner of my eye and lifted my chin slightly. "Fuck it!" he muttered. A millisecond later, he towered over me, hands raised up and reaching. He wrapped one around my neck, his fingertips tickling the hair at the nape of it and his warm palm heavy where it lay against the side of my throat. The other plunged into my hair, its heel burning the skin over the hinge of my jaw.

He pressed against me, tilted my head to a more accommodating angle, and then slanted his lips across mine, kissing me thoroughly. Unlike our first kiss all those weeks ago, there was a gentleness to this one that had been missing before, but it belied the neediness behind it that was still present. My natural instinct was to resist him…_unless I initiated the kiss or they were Edward's lips, that had been my natural reaction for more than five years_…but I quickly allowed myself to relax, to give in, and even kiss him back.

He never made any move to deepen the kiss, but when he finally pulled away, after a final chaste peck, we were both panting. "Goodnight, Bella," he whispered against my mouth before releasing me, and disappearing through the stairwell door, taking all the warmth with him.

"Goodnight," I breathed to the empty hallway, before going inside, shutting and locking the door behind me, and curling up underneath a pile of blankets on my bed.

We fell into a holding pattern after that. I was air traffic control and Jake was awaiting word from my tower that it was safe to land, but I kept him overhead, circling around and wasting fuel, not knowing if I had any intention of bringing him in or not. He would eventually run out of fuel, but I refused to allow that knowledge have any bearing on my decision; I wasn't ready to let go of Edward yet, and couldn't sleep with him until I was. We were PG-13, stuck on first base because I wouldn't let things move past kissing. Kissing was fine. People said hello with kisses. Kissing didn't feel like a betrayal…much.

Of course, I'd have to have made a promise to someone, or a commitment, and I had done neither…except to Jake and myself, but we weren't the ones I felt as if I were betraying, and it made no sense to me. I felt like a broken record having to remind myself over and over again that Edward and I were through, that we'd never really had anything to begin with. All we'd ever had was a deal to stop sleeping together if we decided to sleep with anyone else. I may have rescinded our agreement, but he was the one who had ended it. I needed to let go, but despite having vowed to do so too many times to count, I wasn't sure that I could – wasn't sure I knew how.

Sleeping with Jake shouldn't have been such a big deal; I had slept with other people since Edward. Sure, I had felt _some _amount of guilt each time, but being in a relationship with someone and sleeping with them was…_more _than any of those random, drunken couplings.

It wasn't until November – the week of Thanksgiving, to be exact – that the song and dance finally got old for both of us. Jake had several roommates, so we were hanging out at my place for the night since Angela was at Ben's – again. She had been spending most of her time there since she returned from his sister's wedding over the summer. I had a feeling that the only reason she hadn't moved in with him yet was because she didn't want to force me to find either a roommate or a new apartment when I would be moving back to Seattle at the end of February. Even if I weren't there, she would have had to break the lease to move in with him, so it wasn't as if I was really holding her up at all.

Jake and I were supposedly watching a movie, but I think he was giving his attempts at groping my tits more attention than the screen. After the ninetieth time I pulled his paw out of my shirt in fewer minutes…_touching had been limited to over the clothes, above the waist only, and only on special occasions – remember, strictly PG-13_…I snapped, and ordered him to heel.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Jake! Seriously? How many fucking times do I have to tell you to heel before you stop fucking trying to cop a feel? What part of 'no' don't you understand? Do you like rejection?"

"Fucking come on, Bells! It's been like five fucking months since we started seeing each other, and I can't get past first base. _Fuck!_ We've even slept in the same bed on numerous occasions, and you won't even cuddle with me, but you say _his_ name in your sleep. I bet I'd get laid if my name was Edward fucking Cullen!" _Oh, it was on now…like motherfucking Donkey Kong!_

"How fucking dare you throw him in my face, you stupid motherfucker! So what, because I fucked him I'm some kind of huge whore, and I should have fucked you already? Is that what you're saying, Jacob Black? If you're really that fucking concerned about sex, then here's a bit of advice for ya – Go. Fuck. Yourself! Either way, get the fuck out of my apartment!" I was so incensed I was incandescent with rage.

Already standing at that point, I stormed to the door, and yanked it open. "Now Bells, I didn't…" he started.

"You didn't mean it? Huh? Save it. Just leave. Now!"

"Bell…"

"I swear to fuck, Jake… Just go before I call the cops." Not making eye contact, I pointed into the hall with one hand, and kept the other on the doorknob. I was seething.

"Fine, Bella! Fine!" Jake snatched up his coat from the chair, and stomped towards the door, coming to a halt on the threshold. Towering over me, he added, "But for the record, I didn't mean it like that."

My muscles tensed, ready to slam the door on him as soon as he was far enough through it…_it wouldn't have bothered me had it hit him in the ass on the way out_…but just before I could, he turned and was on me. One hand wrapped around my waist, clutching my hip; the other palmed the back of my head, fingers weaving into my hair. I didn't have the chance to so much as squeak, before he bent me back over his arm in a low dip. Hovering over me, his lips slanted across mine, he kissed me with a dizzying, classic movie thoroughness. I was the spunky dame he was trying to sweep off her feet, and he was the Spencer Tracey-esque leading man, conquering me with cocky defiance in a 'Frankly, Scarlet, I don't give a damn' manner, and it was working…_not that I'd have ever let him know._

When he righted me, setting me back on my feet, I was breathless and panting, my face flushed and my eyes glassy, but the hard edge of my anger hadn't yet faded, leaving me unwilling to give up or give in to him; I refused to let him know how he affected me. I honed my temper to a fine edge, grateful that it, the blood rushing to my head from being dipped so low, the lack of oxygen, or any combination of the three could be blamed for my red face, allowing me to keep my façade in place. A good poker player always keeps their cards close to their chest, minimizing the risk of someone seeing their cards or calling their bluff; I may not have been playing poker, but it was even more important that I keep my heart – or my lust, as the case may be – as close as possible. Someone whom I didn't give myself to couldn't hurt me.

The daze from his heady kiss receded enough for me to realize that I was just standing there – mouth agape, staring, and my temper was piqued. Raising my hand, I slapped him, and then dropped it back to my side clenched into a tight fist, the other taking a death-hold on the doorknob. I refused to meet his eyes with my narrowed ones as he stepped back, one hand pressed to his cheek. He turned to go, but hesitated, wanting to get in one last word.

"This is far from over; _we_ are far from over. I'm in love with you, Isabella Swan, and I'm prepared to fight for you…even if _you_ are the one I have to fight. You kissed me back, so you can't say that you don't want me, too…and you can't deny that _he_ is what's holding you back."

"You are so full of shit," I informed him, my voice weak and thin, not only because I knew there was some truth in his words, but also because his willingness to fight for me threatened to take my breath. Edward had never – _would_ never fight for me. He had flown to New York, saying he loved me, wanted me back, and _claiming_ to have searched for me for months, but if Edward had ever _really_ wanted me, he should have fought for me long before then. Had Edward really been in love with me, he would have never fucked Skankya behind my back. My leaving hadn't made him realize how much I meant to him. No, he was just upset to have lost his favorite toy, and the acknowledgment hit me like a physical blow.

…_lay down your arms_…

I could have admitted defeat, and given in to Jake right then, but I didn't. A girls gotta have her pride, after all, and I refused to be the one to bend or break in this battle; I wouldn't admit I was weak.

…_that thing you're using, is hurtin' me bad, what do you hope to achieve_…

"You don't have a fucking clue what you're talking about; you're just pissed off because I don't love you. I told you to leave, Jake, and I meant it, so just fucking go!"

…_fussin' and fightin' is leaving me sad, that's not the way it should be_…

My cruel declaration didn't elicit a response from him, which was good…_I happen to enjoy getting the last word, thank you_…but neither did it achieve its intended goal: making him leave. _Possibly, for good,_ my mind tacked on for me, my stomach twisted with the realization that those words could very well be the last words I'd ever say to him, and I was conflicted. On the one hand, good riddance, but on the other, I really did care about him, and I couldn't deny that I wanted him just as he'd said I did. I mean, the way he'd kissed me had been hot. It might have even turned me on. _Might have, Bella? Hnh!_

…_lay down arms, baby, now surrender to me don't you know_...

It occurred to me then that Edward would never be out of my system until I committed fully to Jake. Seeing or maybe just admitting the truth for the first time, I acknowledged to myself that I did love Jake romantically. It may have lacked the passion and fire and all-consuming-ness between Edward and me, but it was love nonetheless. I'd been refusing to sleep with him, not because I didn't find him attractive or because I only thought of him as a friend, but because doing so would be the final stroke of the blade, severing my connection with Edward for good, and even though I kept saying I wanted it, I wasn't sure that I actually did. _Fuck me; both Alice and Jake were right._

I was at a crossroads and needed to make a decision. It was time to prove to everyone – myself, Edward, Jake, Alice – that I really did want to move on…and there was no time like the present. _While I still had the nerve. _ I didn't like having to swallow my pride, but my sanity and the chance to move on finally were more important than that. Shoving Jake out of the way of the door, I slammed it shut and took two tentative steps toward where he stood, facing away from me. _You're really doing this, Bella._

..._hope dangles on a string like slow spinning redemption, winding in and winding out_…

I was already losing my nerve, and couldn't look away from the floor, my natural self-doubt creeping in and threatening to make me fail. When he finally turned to face me, the tips of his shoes entering my field of vision – I hissed at his unexpected proximity, and then scolded myself for my reaction. _Kinda hard to fuck someone from across the room, idiot._

"What are you doing, Bella?" His voice was soft and quiet, and his breath ruffled my hair.

…_the shine of it has caught my eye, and roped me in, so mesmerizing, so hypnotizing_…

_What was I doing?_ I thought I knew – I had been so sure of it – but I didn't really know, so I didn't answer. Instead, I forced myself to stop thinking, and stuck with my plan. Launching myself at him, shoving him back against the door with a _thud_, I gripped the lapels of the jacket that I didn't remember him putting on after he grabbed it, pulled his face down to mine and kissed him. It was rough, and desperate – almost feral – and nothing like any kiss we'd ever shared, and he wasn't responding.

"Bella," he said, startled and trying to push me back gently by my shoulders. I wasn't having it; I kept my lips moving against his, trying to engage him in the kiss. "What – what is this?"

…_I am captivated_…

"Stop talking, Jake. Just – shut up and kiss me, please!" I implored, still kissing him. My hands still gripping his coat, I peeled it off his body, letting it drop to the floor.

"Wait, Bella, what are you…"

…_I am vindicated_…

"You were right, so stop acting like you don't want this as much as I do, and just go with it."

"But – are you sure this is what you want? I mean…"

I knew I'd won when Jake unconsciously leaned towards me, even as he questioned me. The disappointment that flared on his face when I pulled back was almost comical, but I saw it quickly turning into something else – something bad – and took action to stop it. Pulling my shirt up and over my head, I looked him in the eyes and asked, "Are you done talking yet?"

Heat flashed in his dark eyes, and he unconsciously licked his lips. It felt good to be wanted, and I let the feeling wrap around me, heating me.

…_I am selfish_…

He nodded, eyes on my barely-hidden chest the whole time; boys really were too easy. Like one of Pavlov's dogs, I could practically see saliva pooling in his mouth. I reached behind me to unsnap my bra, and suddenly Jake pressed hard against me, his hands stilling mine. I'd admitted to feeling some amount of romantic love for him, and he was a great boyfriend – almost too attentive, too sweet, really – but I wasn't _in love_ with Jake, and the look in his eyes said he was in love with me…_I was a monster._

…_I am wrong_…

"I want to do that part, please?" he asked softly, reverently, his hooded eyes piercing mine with an intensity that nearly made me reconsider what I was doing, because I knew the look wasn't mirrored in my eyes, but Jake didn't seem to notice, and I was too weak-willed to stop it. I was too set on my course of action even though it may very well spell disaster for us both.

I leaned into him, forcefully mashing our lips together and kissed him with my eyes closed, hoping to erase the vision of another man that was suddenly hovering in front of his face. It didn't work though. The hazy specter of pale and bronze disarray just intensified, solidified, and I bit my lip to keep from speaking his name.

Somehow, we made it to my room, onto my bed, and Jake was inside me, and it was good, only not quite enough. I couldn't get Edward out of my head, which was so wrong with Jake inhabiting all of my senses..._not to mention other parts of me, too._

"Oh, fuck! Oh…Bells! So good!" cried the wrong voice – Jake, not Edward.

I moved with him, against him, making all the right sounds, and it felt good – great, actually – but I couldn't seem to give myself over to the pleasure of it. Forcing my head back into the game, I focused on his movements inside me until I found the fine thread of tingling pleasure that it caused. Grasping onto it, it began to coil around me, wrapping me up in it just as Jake's words began to grow less comprehensible. But I still needed more, Jake was slipping over, and the battle to keep Edward out of my mind was just distracting enough to keep me hovering at the edge with no hope of going over, so I stopped fighting it, and let Edward fill my head.

The first memory sent a jolt of the pleasure Jake was giving me surging uncontrollably through my body, causing me to throw my head back and arch up into him, begging, "Harder! Ungh! Please, harder!"

"Are you – oh, God! Are you close? Please tell me you're close. I can't...I c-can't hold on!"

"Yesssss! Oh, God! S-so close. Please!" I begged. "Again."

Jake called out again, thrusting hard one more time, giving me what I wanted, and we both crashed over the edge. He called out my name as my head fell back, my body arching harder into his and my mouth fell open, Edward's name forming on my lips, but the word not coming out.

Jake rolled off me, sprawling on his back beside me until he caught his breath and could get up to dispose of the condom in the trash can beside my desk. Snuggling under the blankets, he pulled me to his side and, with a kiss to my head, drowsily declared, "I love you, Bella."

…_I am right, I swear I'm right_…

I froze, unable to make the words pass my lips, but Jake said nothing. A quick glance over my shoulder confirmed why: he was already asleep. A tenderness I hadn't expected flooded my nerves, causing my hand to reach out and stroke his jaw, but it quickly passed. I settled at his side, waiting until his breathing evened out enough that I was certain he wouldn't wake, and then I slipped out of bed and crept to the bathroom. I was so confused, feeling cold and sick with dread that I'd made the wrong choice, and by doing so – by having sex with Jake – I'd trapped myself in something I wasn't sure I was ready for. Goodbye was so much harder than I thought it would be, especially when I was having doubts that it was even what I wanted. Was it too late? _So much for sex with Jake being the final stroke…_

…_I swear I knew it all along_…

Locking the door, because I wouldn't have put it past Jake to not just walk in if he were to wake up and come look for me, I turned on the water in this sink, and grabbed a towel from the cabinet before sinking down to the floor, covering my face, and crying out my frustrations. Giving in to Jake was supposed to solve everything, but I was more confused than ever. When I had gotten it all out of my system, I splashed some water on my face, flushed the toilet – just in case I needed an excuse…_however embarrassing_ – and snuck back to my room.

Apparently getting everything you wanted wears a person out, because Jake hardly stirred when I slipped back into bed, curling myself around the edge of it and hoping that Jake would stay on his side. I really didn't think I could handle him touching me; I was too keyed up to handle anyone touching me.

The sick-numb feeling I'd felt in the bathroom never went away, it kept me up all night, and as soon as I could get away without raising questions, I fled. By the time Jake woke up, I'd tidied the living room, cleaned the kitchen, and made breakfast for us both. _Idle hands are the devil's playground…and an idle mind is even worse. _Between the lack of sleep, and the mindless busywork I'd occupied myself with, I had disconnected, allowing a candy-coating of placidity – thin and brittle – over my dark, tumultuous center, and preventing the morning from becoming as awkward as it could have been. The downside was that I was distracted and distant, but if Jake noticed, he kept it to himself.

After breakfast, Jake had to get back to his place to pack – he was going home to Washington for the Thanksgiving break, and had an early flight the next morning. Although I was sure I would miss him, I couldn't seem to express it with my words, so I did the next best thing and expressed it with my mouth, giving him a goodbye blowjob. Whether it was goodbye for the holiday, or goodbye-goodbye, I couldn't at that time say, but I felt that either way, he deserved something from me in lieu of my heart, which I didn't have to give. I turned down his offer to reciprocate – he'd already given me too much – and walked him to the door. With a kiss, he walked to the door, turning at the last minute to tell me he loved me; I told him to have fun.

…_and I am flawed, but I am cleaning up so well_…

Sleeping with Jake released an avalanche of emotion down upon me, forcing me to face up to the many things I'd convinced myself I'd dealt with, but had really just placed in some out of the way place to be dealt with later…_out of sight, out of mind, as the saying goes_.I was the avoider…_hey, if George W. Bush could call himself the decider_…and so good at it, I could even fool myself into thinking problems had disappeared. However, even I could no longer ignore the mountain of shit I'd swept under the rug, because it was tripping me up. So really, it was perfect that Jake left the following day to spend time with his father…and mine…_sort of_.

I really didn't like the idea of him chillin' with my father. I couldn't shake the feeling that by the time he returned they were going to have planned our whole wedding, picked out a white picket fence-enclosed home, and named our two-point-five children…_William Charles Black, Vanessa Renee Black, and Wolfgang, the adopted mutt_. I could picture it all in my head – me, smiling contentedly inside the house, baby on my hip as I prepared dinner, and then Jake walking through the door…_honey, I'm home_…kissing me on the cheek –and it disturbed me. Although, I wasn't sure what was more bothersome – the fact that I could picture it, or the fact that it didn't freak me out as much as I thought it should – but it didn't really matter; it was a bad idea.

Until now, Jake and my father having an existing relationship that had nothing to do with me had been theoretical, but faced with it the only thing I could think was: what the fuck was I thinking getting involved with the son of Charlie's best friend? I hadn't taken the time to fully appreciate the complications that would arise from dating Jacob Black, or the ramifications it would have on the rest of my life – and Charlie's – if it ended…_which it almost inevitably would_.

…_I am seeing in me now the things you swore you saw yourself_…

It was the combination of so many things – my insecurities, my indecision, my need for vindication, my Goddamn stubbornness – that had initially allowed me to be pushed into something I didn't particularly want with someone I hadn't been particularly interested in romantically. Of course, nothing remains static, but it took me a while to admit it. Feeling anything aside from lust for someone other than Edward was so contrary that, when my feelings for Jake began to evolve, I hadn't been able to embrace it, and clung desperately to my denial.

When I did finally accept it, I couldn't wrap my mind around it. How was it even possible to have such disinterest in someone romantically, yet still feel a small amount of love for them? Before we'd consummated our relationship, I had wondered – was still wondering, honestly – if I hadn't fooled myself into loving him simply because he wanted it so badly, and I had an almost pathological need to please others. But now? Things had changed…somewhat. At least to the extent that I could no longer deny that my feelings for Jake were deeper than I wanted to admit – deeper than I wanted them to _be_. Maybe even deeper than I was ready for.

…_rendered me so isolated, so motivated_…

For the first time since I'd left Seattle, the anger that had been hiding behind my heartbreak – bolstering me up – was gone, and I felt uncertainty closing in. Doubts – about where things were going with Jake, everything that had happened with Edward – plagued me like a horde of locusts, eating away any confidence I had in the decisions I had made and the choices I was making. I began questioning everything. Had I handled the situation with Edward the right way? Should I have given him another chance? Had he really changed – _was he even capable of it?_ Could he be theman now I had needed him to be then?

Was I forcing myself to be with Jake as a way of proving something to myself…of punishing Edward? Was I ready to commit emotionally to Jake the way he wanted to commit to me – the way he already had – or was it too soon? Could I ever reconcile loving someone else – loving Jake – when Edward would always possess my heart? Would I ever manage to actually follow through with it and say goodbye to Edward? Did I even want to anymore?

…_I am certain now_…

Admitting my true feelings for Jake seemed to have opened the door to truths long-denied, sending me headlong into a tailspin of confusion that even I found annoying. With each new question that arose, and admission confessed, one thing became clear: I needed to find out if there was anything left to salvage between Edward and myself, because until I knew that what we had was dead, until I had closure, I couldn't declare a time of death and zip up the body bag.

I didn't want to wake up when I was thirty-five years old and realize that I let the love of my life walk away. I didn't want to spend the rest of my life thinking about what could have been, and I couldn't move forward if I was always looking to the past, it wasn't fair to any of us – me, Jake, nor Edward. Whomever I chose to be with, I owed it to him to give all of myself, and I owed the other one his freedom. I was done vacillating.

…_Trace the moment, fall forever, defense is paper thin_…

Instead of the anxiousness I'd come to expect when making decisions regarding Edward, I felt a deep, abiding sense of peace…_or possibly bone-deep exhaustion_…creep over me. The distress I expected to feel was noticeable, but only in its absence. Mostly, I felt eager, but I reined in my impatience. Coming to a decision wasn't the same as reaching a resolution. I still had to act on it, and I was going to do it the right way – face-to-face with no lying and no games.

The problem was that I wouldn't be able to have the conversation that needed to be had with Edward for three more months, and I couldn't allow my relationship with Jake to continue when I couldn't honestly commit to a future with him. Therefore, until a decision could be made I was going to have to end things with Jake, and knowing that I was going to cause an innocent party pain, no matter what the outcome, simply because he fell in love with me, was making me feel itchy….and not in a good way.

However, I couldn't allow a little temporary discomfort hinder me from doing what I knew needed to be done. Slight discomfort now could become acute pain down the road, and by then, it would be too late to get out. I needed to tell Jake and the sooner the better, but I refused to ruin his time with his family by telling him over the phone; he deserved better than that from me. Despite the urgency I felt to get the ball rolling, I would wait to talk to Jake until he came home.

…_just one touch and I'd be in_…

It was just Chinese food, a couple bottles of Asahi, and me for Thanksgiving, but as late afternoon turned into early evening, the requisite telephone calls began to trickle in. Angela's small-talk-filled check-up call was followed by one from Alice and Rose that caused a nearly uncontrollable surge of longing to shoot through my veins when I heard _his _voice unexpectedly. My breath hitched and then stuck in my chest as I held the air in my lungs, listening with straining ears to hear him again, torn between wanting it more than anything, and dreading what I would do if I got it.

A male voice came unexpectedly over the line, but when I realized that it was Emmett's overexcited voice barreling into my eardrum, a wave of disappointment iced over me, dulling the tingle caused by Edward's phantom voice until it was gone. I wanted to hit him for not being Edward, but also had the urge to kiss him for preventing me from doing something stupid like asking to speak to his brother. I consoled myself with the knowledge that by the end of the day, Rose would have done both, and started looking for excuses to get off the phone so that I could shut the damn thing off.

Before I managed to come up with anything, my call waiting beeped. "Em, I got a call on the other line, so I gotta go, but I'll talk to you later. Love ya, mister. Take care of my girls for me, and take care of you."

"Sure can do, Belly-boo! Love ya, girly!"

"Bye, Em."

I didn't want to take the call, not being all that eager to discover what, or who, was waiting for me on the other line…_my luck, Renee would have suddenly remembered that she had another daughter_…but it got me off the phone with Emmett relatively unscathed. He'd most likely done irreparable harm to my ear drum, but after all the years of knowing him, they didn't work that well anyway…_what was another few percentage of hearing loss_.

Rather than feel relieved when I switched over to the other line, I had the distinct feeling that I was hopping out of the frying pan and straight into the fire, but told myself to stop being such a Gloomy Gus, and answered with a wary hello. _Well, hello to you too, self-fulfilling prophecy._

"Bells! Happy Thanksgiving, kid. You being safe all alone there in the big city?"

Charlie. I murmured my assent.

…_too deep now to ever swim against the current_…

"That boy of yours tells me that you guys are getting pretty serious. I think that's great, he's a good kid. You know, when you two were little…"

_Fuck my life! _I hadn't been serious when I'd made the crack to myself about them planning my wedding. If he asked me for my measurements so he could order my wedding dress, I was hanging up. _And relocating. Permanently. _

It was only 7:30 when I ended the call and dropped my phone next to me on the couch, but I was so drained and annoyed – Just what the fuck did Jake tell our fathers about us? – that I was done. I was going to wash my hands of the whole day, and I'd start by powering my phone off. At the last minute, I went against my better judgment and left it on, compromising by deciding that I'd leave it on the coffee table when I went to my room.

My dinner mess was cleaned up and the apartment tidied in short order. I took one last swig of my beer, draining it and tossing it into the trash…_I salute you, fallen soldier_…before heading to my room, hoping to sleep until the holiday was over…_that was something for which I could be thankful. _Maybe I'd dream of some creative way in which I could neuter Jake for whatever he'd said that had our fathers acting like Mrs. Bennett. Maybe if I called Charlie back, refusing to marry Jake, he would refuse to speak to me ever again? _Doubtful, but a girl could hope._

I'd had to endure the effete gushing of Charlie and Billy Black for more than thirty minutes. _'We're both so happy you two are together.' 'We've always hoped this would happen.' 'After two girls, I was thrilled to finally get a son, and my wife used to joke that the only reason I wanted a boy so badly was so that the Swans and Blacks could be united and finally be family.' 'It doesn't matter that you're not Quileute because you're Charlie's little girl.'_ Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah! _Are you kidding me?_ Not interested because it was making me sick to my stomach and threatening to rain on my decisive day parade, I stopped listening. If I hadn't felt as if I were stuck with Jake before, I certainly did after that. With every word they'd uttered, I faltered just a little more.

…_so let me slip away_…

I felt like Atlas, only instead of my punishment being to hold up the heavens, I bore the hopes and expectations of three grown men, and wanted nothing more than to crumple under the weight. The thought of disappointing all of them made my knees knock, and I momentarily reconsidered the conversation I was planning to have with Jake when he returned, but I wouldn't be deterred, not when I was so close to a resolution. If there was ever a time for me not to let the perceived pressure of others keep me from finding happiness, it was now.

…_slight hope, it dangles on a string like slow spinning redemption..._

**Songs Used  
(in order of appearance):  
**_Space Oddity_ by David Bowie  
_Other Arms_ by Robert Plant  
_Vindicated _by Dashboard Confessional

**Recommendations:  
**_Curiouser and Curiouser _by Amelie Grey – crossover w/Alice in Wonderland and intriguing so far. I've liked several of her fics so far. Check her out.  
_Starry Eyed Inside _by Rochelle Allison – cute as hell high school fic.  
_Let's Get Physical _by Lalina  
_We Come to Life Beneath the Stars _by Lillybellis  
_Distractions _by windchymes

**I'd love to hear your thoughts.**


	7. Chapter 7 It Ain't You

**Disclaimer: **S. Meyer owns all recognizable characters, plots, etc. Only original content, characters, etc. belongs to author. No copyright infringement intended. Any errors contained herein, are expressly the fault of the authors idiocy, and not her betas.

**Word Count:** 8,897

**A/N: **I can't express enough my appreciation to V for betaing, and Char for helping me get it right an keeping me on track, but I will never stop trying; I couldn't do this without you.

Thanks to all of you for reading and reviewing. We're almost there. I've been mostly finished with this chapter for ages now, but I…don't know, felt 'blah' about it, and had to step back for a bit, which is why it took longer to get it out to you than I'd anticipated. It's done now, though, and that has to count for something. I'll shut-up and let you get to it… Enjoy.

* * *

**Chapter 7 – It Ain't You**

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* * *

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I'm walking on a wire  
Twisting in the wind  
And something here is dying  
And I could use a friend…

…Tonight I'll walk on water  
Tonight I'll leap through flame  
And sing it to the corner  
And still the blood in your veins  
'Til something flickers in me  
I feel the motion of light  
And slip into the distance  
And someone slips into my life

But it ain't you  
It ain't you…

- Tom McRae

.

~∞Ѿ∞~

**_Last Time In EPOV -_**

_Awareness returned slowly – a hard surface pressing painfully into my hip…a stiff ache in my back…the feel of my skin sticking to a wood floor, and also…to skin _not mine? _My mouth was dry and my throat raspy, and somebody's sleep-heavy limbs were tangled with mine. I cracked one eyelid and, ever the Cowardly Lion, observed the room's destruction before facing my partner in the devastation. When I finally did risk a glance, it was as bad as I feared and worse. _

_I knew with certainty that I couldn't run – just disappear with dawn's first light as I was wont to do. No, this _– she – _was something I would have to face, and I didn't know how to own up to the mistake I'd made to myself, let alone her. _

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~∞Ѿ∞~

.

Waking, naked and entangled with Charlotte on the floor, was awkward…to say the least. When I finally managed to force down my panic, quelling my instinctive need for flight, and look at Charlotte, I nearly lost it. She gazed up me – biting her lip in a way that was much too similar to Bella for comfort – with trepidation, allowing me see our entire history, from classmates to casual acquaintances to friends, in an entirely new light.

The – I now knew to be – pained expression she'd had when I told her about sleeping with the not-Bella-screamer. Her sigh – of relief – when she'd saved me from taking that Gianna person home, and the strange way she'd behaved toward me the next morning in her apartment… Sign after overlooked sign came clear to me, and I could have killed myself for not seeing it sooner. Charlotte was in love with me and, selfish idiot that I was, I had never noticed.

"Morning," she said softly, fearfully, worried what my reaction was going to be.

_What had I gotten myself into? _I pondered, absently staring at her face. I didn't _want_ to hurt her, but I was destined to; it's what I did. I thought she knew that, but she evidently hadn't taken anything I'd told her about myself at face value, or else she thought she was different, that she would be the girl to finally fix and keep me, but she was wrong. If Bella hadn't been able to do it, no one ever would, and I was going to have to clear up any delusions she had about that. The thought of what I was about to do turned my stomach…_or it could have been all the tequila from the night before_…but as reluctant as I was, it had to happen. I didn't know how exactly to go about saying what needed to be said, though.

When I was still silent after several seconds, she let her eyes drop from mine, and then sat up, reaching down by our feet to grab the blanket that we must have covered ourselves with at some point during the night only to later kick off as we slept. She pulled the afghan over herself, and although the loose weave didn't offer much in the way of coverage, it seemed to ease her discomfort some; it did nothing for the aura of vulnerability surrounding her, though.

Seeing her that way – huddled under a blanket, her shoulders hunched and her eyes downcast – caused my stomach to clench, but as troubling as the sight was, it was the disappointment and resignation in her eyes when she had looked away that made me even consider not doing what I knew I should. _Well, that and cowardice._

_.  
_

~∞Ѿ∞~

.

…_I'm not in love_…

We never really talked about what happened that night. Instead, we were both content to act as if it never happened…or maybe _I _was content to act as if it never happened, and Charlotte followed my lead; I don't know. She was easy to please, just the fact that I didn't run away seemed to be enough for her.

…_so don't forget it, it's just a silly phase I'm going through_…

As much as I tried to forget the mistake of sleeping with her – even going so far as to tell myself that I didn't remember any it (which wasn't entirely true), so it therefore didn't count as it hadn't really happened – I couldn't ignore the fact that, little-by-little, things began to change between us. It was never my intention to enter into a relationship with her, it just…_happened _with no encouragement, but I suppose very little to no _dis_couragement from me; I didn't even really consider us to _be_ in a relationship and, in spite of how it looked, I still hadn't moved on from Bella. Appearances really were more deceptive than anyone gave them credit for being; the signs certainly slipped past me.

…_and just because I call you up, don't get me wrong, don't think you've got it made_…

First it was, _'You wanna catch a lecture/a movie/a meal?'_ Subtle touches – a touch on my shoulder as she leaned over me to reach something, a nudge with her elbow over an inside joke or as an _'I told you so'_ – became more intimate – brushing against me more than necessary when she had to squeeze by me, pressing her breasts against my arm when she leaned in to tell me something, _'There's something on your…got it.' _

…_I like to see you, but then again that doesn't mean you mean that much to me_…

By the time I realized what it looked like to everyone – what it seemed like to Charlotte – I was in too deep, and it was too late. I had lost Bella – an accidentally overheard conversation between Alice and Rose had informed me of that – and I couldn't very well spend the rest of my life alone, not knowing as I now did that Bella had moved on; I had needs, too. While I might not have been in love with Charlotte, we got along and I figured I stood about as good a chance at being happy with her as I did with anyone that wasn't Bella.

By all rights, I should have wanted her – she was funny and witty, charming and intelligent, focused and driven, and it didn't hurt that she was gorgeous. Blonde with an All-American, girl-next-door vibe, an angelic face, and a body made for sin – great rack and a tight, trim body that my dick definitely noticed, even though my heart and most of my head had no interest. Despite her looks, she somehow maintained a slightly innocent air that contrasted enticingly with the gleam in her eyes, giving a hint at the sultry vixen hidden underneath; I _should_ have wanted her, but I didn't…not like she wanted me.

…_so if I call you, don't make a fuss, don't tell your friends about the two of us_…

Had I met her prior to realizing I was in love with Bella, and then fucking everything up with her, I'm ashamed to say I would have probably tried to hook up with her. _Okay, I definitely would have tried._ I couldn't say that I didn't still find her attractive, because part of me, on a very base level that I couldn't control…_mostly my poor, neglected dick_…did, but my heart was immune to her. My mind…well, was another story.

…_I'm not in love, no-no_…

Half of it said I could do worse, and the other half said that entering into a relationship with _anyone_ would forever kill any possibility, however minute, of one day getting her back. I kept hearing Alice and Rose's conversation though...

'_How are things going with Bella and the dog?' _

'_Rose! Be nice. And they're good. He took her away to some bed and breakfast in Connecticut last weekend. They had a good time. She said it was really pretty.'_

'_Wow, a weekend away. Sounds like things are starting to get pretty serious.'_

'_Yeah, that's the impression I got from her.' _

…and I would grow conflicted. I was aware that she was everything society…_and my dick_…said I should have wanted – she was my equal in nearly every way, and I knew that any guy would have been lucky to have her. While I didn't want to be that pathetic guy that couldn't move on, couldn't get over the one that got away…_the one that he chased away_…I couldn't, but for some reason, I didn't want Charlotte thinking that I didn't want her – no matter how mostly true it was. However, I couldn't have what I wanted – _who_ I wanted – so I just…accepted what was in front of me.

In truth, I know it was a selfish thing to do, not to mention incredibly unfair to Charlotte, but I was weak. I allowed her to give so much of herself to me, and gave her nothing in return…_unless the occasional orgasm counts, but I don't think it does._ At times, I could see in her eyes the awareness that I wasn't really hers, but she seemed to accept the fact that I was still in love with another woman and take me for what I was: a lost and broken boy, trying to find his way as a man. After all, I was here, mostly with her, and Bella was on the other side of the country with _him_, whoever the fuck _he_ was.

That seemed to be enough to let her ignore the truth of the matter, and my guilt over one night of lonely, drunken sex was enough for me to do the same, allowing her to re-imagine our friendship into what she wanted us to be: a couple. It seemed like we were both okay living with our lies.

.

~∞Ѿ∞~

.

I never did get the visit from **Ϯϻ** (The Artist Formerly Known As Malice) that I was expecting, but rather than put too much thought in it – or any at all, really – I brushed it off as an early Christmas present…_one that Alice didn't even know she had gotten me._ I couldn't have been more wrong. It wasn't a present, it was a warning, but my Alice-unami alarm was about as effective as…well, a real tsunami alarm. Rather than get shut the fuck down by me, the evil fey opted to bide her time and, when no one was expecting it – least of all me – go straight to the source.

Sometime in mid-October, Alice got her hands on Charlotte. She claimed she bumped into her while at the hospital looking for me, and asked her to lunch in order to apologize. _Cough – bullshit – cough! _It was my conjecture that chicken wasn't the only thing grilled during that lunch, but Char insisted that no interrogation occurred. They simply got to know each other, and they…

"…really hit it off. I actually like her. We have quite a bit in common – which I never would have guessed – and she asked me to a movie with her and Jasper later. Do you want to go with?"

"I don't…"

"I mean you don't have to. I was just thinking that…well, I know how frustrated it makes you when she conjectures on your relationship status, and maybe if she sees us interact in a more neutral, Rosalie-free, non-bar setting, she'll see that we're really little more than friends and lay off of you? It's just a thought."

I hated to say it, but she had a point; it could work. _Stranger things had happened._ "I was going to say, I don't think I'll be very good company, but I guess I could go…as long as Alice isn't choosing the movie." I couldn't make it too easy on her.

Char smirked. "She said you'd say that."

I frowned, and then accused, "Did she put you up to this – asking me to come?"

"What?" she asked, alarmed. "Not at all! I just didn't really feel comfortable going out with your sister alone, but I didn't know if it would be okay to ask anyone along, let alone you, so I asked. I would never do something like that. I'm your _friend_," she said the word distastefully, crinkling her nose, "not your sister's, whom I barely know and have only met in socially awkward, confrontational situations. I can't believe you would think that of me."

Her eyes looked disturbingly glassy, causing me to panic. _Shit, shit, I made her cry!_ "I wasn't…that is, I didn't mean to be so accusatory. It's just, you don't know my sister, she can be sneaky and manipulative like that. I wasn't trying to imply that you would conspire with her. I understand you not wanting to have to hang out with my asshole family alone – can't really say I blame you after the way we've all behaved the couple times you've met them.

"I'm surprised you even agreed to go. You didn't have to do that for me, but…thanks. The least I can do is go with you, and make sure Alice is on her best behavior." I rubbed at the back of my neck, something I seemed to be doing more and more when I was uncomfortable. _At least I wasn't trying to achieve premature baldness by tugging at my hair anymore._

"So, you'll really go then?" she questioned with restrained hopefulness, with skepticism, a crease forming between her eyebrows.

"Really, really," I replied, dread curling its icy fingers around the base of my spine.

She smirked, "Shrek? Really?"

"What? It was a funny movie! Don't knock that shit. It was barely appropriate for children."

.

~∞Ѿ∞~

.

As always with Alice, nothing could be simple and straight forward. 'Movie night' turned into dinner _and_ a movie, making it feel like a double date – which I was not cool with, by the way – but on the bright side, there was no Rose or Emmett. For the most part – at least for the first half of the night – things went smoothly and without any real conflict. It bothered me, but I couldn't do anything about the way in which Alice and Char spent most of the night chatting like old friends. What was I supposed to say, you guys can't be friends or get along? Hardly. I wasn't begrudging Char a friend, I just would have preferred that it not be my sister, that it be anyone other than my sister. Besides, Alice already had two best friends; she didn't need to steal my friends, and wasn't befriending Char a little disloyal to Bella? Whatever.

The only real hitch to the first part of the evening was that I don't think it came close to accomplishing what Char had suggested it would. If anything, I think it further purported Alice's theory that we were a together _together_ – which we weren't. We just hung out a little more than we used to, but except for the first time – which had been a drunken mistake – we hadn't slept together again, and we didn't kiss or hold hands or do any of that other couple-y shit. _Not really_. I mean, there weren't any outward signs that I could see to propagate the idea that we were involved. Sure, Char was a little too familiar with me…and maybe a bit too touchy feely, but there was no indication on my end. Alice being Alice, she was going to see whatever it was that she wanted to see, and I couldn't do a thing about it.

It was the second half of the evening, when Jazz-hands and Malice decided that the night was young, as were we, and it was 'too early to call it a night so let's go to go get our drink on', when things began to go awry. I didn't want to go, but was overruled three-to-one. Normally, I wouldn't have let that stop me – I would have just bailed and gone home – but Alice had this look on her face like she was seconds away from tears, and I couldn't stand the idea of disappointing her yet again; Christmas was right around the corner, so I sucked it up and went along with it. I wished I hadn't though, because 'Drunk Char' is also 'Gropy Char'. By the time Alice decided I could call it a night, and I poured Charlotte into the passenger's seat of my car, Alice and Jasper were giving each other these annoying little knowing glances as they looked from me to Char.

.

~∞Ѿ∞~

.

Thanksgiving came. Charlotte's family flew up to see her since she didn't have time to go see them, and I went to my parents' like every year. I left for Forks on Wednesday with plans to stay overnight, and then head back to Seattle after dinner on Thursday since I had a shift at the hospital on Friday. I had just pulled a double and really wasn't looking forward to the drive, but it was better than making it twice in one day. As it was, it was going to suck having to make the long-ass, boring drive back to the city after dinner with all that tryptophan in my system.

By the time I got to Forks, I was dead tired and wanted to crash for the night, but it just wasn't in the cards. My mother had forgotten something at the store and needed me to go get it while she finished whatever she was doing in the kitchen. I hated going anywhere in Forks, especially around the holidays. It seemed like I could never fly under the radar when I did, always getting spotted by someone and then forced to make small talk about the same old banal bullshit. It was either reliving the _glory days _of high school, or the obligatory questions whose answers no one cared to hear – What are you doing now? Married? Kids? Ad infinitum, ad nauseum…

So, it was with great reluctance that I acquiesced when my other asked. She's lucky it was jellied cranberry sauce she needed – which was crucial to _every_ turkey dinner – and not something like celery, otherwise she would have had to go herself, or guilt someone else into doing it for her later when they showed up.

With a baseball hat slipped down low on my head, I snuck into the store, quickly grabbing a basket and locating the correct aisle. Sweeping several cans off the shelf and into the grey shopping basket, I turned towards the front of the store, attempting to bolt before I had the misfortune of being recognized, only to run into what felt like a wall, but wasn't. Unless the walls of the Thriftway were now decked out in flannel and denim, and could suddenly appear sideways in the middle of an aisle.

"Whoa! Sorry there, buddy. Didn't mean to run into ya," I said as I grabbed a shelf, steadying myself, and then looked up into the glaring, vaguely familiar face of some big motherfucker – and I was a tall, well-built guy, so that was saying something. Dude was seriously bigger than Emmett, the biggest guy I know, and that was saying a lot.

Noticing his expression hadn't changed, growing darker, if anything, I raised my hands as best as I could with a heavy basket in one of them – palms facing out – and said, "Hey, no harm intended. I didn't realize anyone was there."

He crossed his arms over his chest with a snort as he looked at me, shaking his head and spitting, "Whatever, _buddy_." He sneered, and then roughly brushed past me, still shaking his head and muttering to himself. I think I even heard the word 'dick,' but couldn't be sure, and wasn't really interested in pursuing it; I just wanted to get the fuck out.

"Huh!" I huffed in a puff of air that was half amusement, half astonished. Shrugging my shoulders…_wonder what the fuck his problem is_…I headed for the checkout stand where I had the misfortune of running into Jessica 'Can I suck your cock?' Stanley, who followed me out to my car, reminiscing about back in the day and offering to give me a hummer for, '…old times' sake.' I didn't take her up on her offer; it wasn't even remotely appealing. _Well, that was a fun trip to the Forks Thriftway. Thank you, and come again soon? I think not,_ I thought as I drove away.

I wasn't in a pleasant mood when I returned home, dropping the two grocery bags of cranberry sauce on the kitchen counter…_just wanted to make sure I got enough_…before stomping down the hall and up the stairs to my old room, where I locked my door, peeled off my clothes and crawled into bed. By the time morning rolled around, I realized that I had acted like a total dick, but my mother just brushed me off. She knew better than almost anyone what a moody fucker I could be, but she still loved me. In fact, I think she may have loved me best, but I'd never tell Alice or Emmett that.

Carlisle had to run into the hospital to check on a couple patients and, after checking with mom to make sure she'd be all right and assuring her that he wouldn't be long, he asked me if I wanted to accompany him on his rounds. I agreed, of course; it was the first time in ages that he'd sought my company, and even longer since I'd joined him at the hospital. Surprisingly, it turned out to be a pleasant way to spend the afternoon, but all good things must come to an end, and eventually we had to go back to the house.

When we walked in, we found everyone gathered in the sitting room – Emmett already at least one sheet to the wind and living in Happy-Garrulous-Emmett-Town (read: overly-loud) – huddled around Alice.

"Hey, what's going on in here?" I asked loudly, feeling especially warm towards my siblings and friends after spending the day bonding with my father.

Alice blanched slightly, and Emmett snatched up the phone that I only just then noticed she had cradled to her ear, my arrival providing just enough distraction for his success.

"Hells-Bells! How the hell ya' doin' there in the big city, baby-girl?"

His words stopped me in my tracks, and I turned back around. "I'll just be in my room," I announced, rushing out of the room and up the main stairs, muttering something about taking a shower. I could have been talking in Klingon for all I know, I was too shocked from having Bella's continued relationship with my family – _which I wanted, of course_ – thrust so unceremoniously in my face to know for sure. The world I'd conjured up, in which Bella was no more than a bittersweet dream, vanished as if her name was the incantation to needed to break the spell.

Being forced to face reality, stark and cold as it was, put me in a bad mood, so I stayed upstairs – playing morose, thunderous music on my old piano in the music room – until called down for dinner, which was a miserable, tense affair…at least for me. In the name of government and family-mandated thankfulness, I was forced to endure the concerned looks that passed between my mother and my father, and the nervous ones between Jasper and my sister. Emmett was too lost in his own happy little world of food and drink to notice much, and Rose chose to ignore it all. Or so I thought.

Just when I was certain that they'd finally given up with their attempts to draw me into conversation, Rose decided to give it a shot. I was beginning to think she wouldn't be happy until I was completely destroyed and unwelcome by my family, but that may be giving her too much credit. Maybe she just thrived on drama, and knew she could provoke me into providing it.

"So, where's your little girlfriend tonight? What's her name, Chantral?"

"Charlotte, and she's not my fucking girlfriend, Rose," I growled lowly in warning. _Fucking cunt._

"Really? That's not what Al…"

"Childr…" my mother started, only to be cut-off.

"Rose!" Alice snapped. "Shut up, and for once in your fucking life stop trying to start shit with Edward. It's Thanks-fucking-giving, for crying out loud!"

"Children, language!" our mother admonished, silence falling over the table as Al and Rose had stare-off. "As Alice so eloquently pointed out, it's Thanks-fucking-giving." For everyone except Emmett, her attempt to lighten the mood fell flat.

"Ma! Right on! I never would have thought you had it in you," Emmett guffawed. For years, it had been his goal to get our mother to cuss at the dinner table, and he'd rarely succeeded. "Way to go, Alice!"

Our father shot Emmett an annoyed glare but, as with everything else, it went over his head. Everyone, including my parents, helped themselves to more wine and a tense silence settled over the table as we all began to eat again, or at least push our food around on our plate and pretend to do so. A surreptitious glance at Rose, silently fuming on the other side of the table, made me think that we hadn't heard the last of her and, sure enough, not even five minutes later, Rose spoke again, picking up right where they had left off.

"I wasn't trying to start anything, Alice," Rose informed her coldly. "I didn't know we weren't allowed to make conversation with Edward about his life. You told me that he was dating the blonde tart from the bar. I thought we were allowed to discuss the fact that he was trying to move on with his life. I mean, Bella has. She's with Ja…"

Alice's chair slammed against the wall as she shot out of her seat, fists clenched at her sides. Her frame vibrated from the fury radiating from her, and twisting her face into a macabre mask. Everyone at the table froze, halting in various stages of eating – except for Emmett, who continued to shovel food into his mouth, like if he didn't acknowledge the fray, it wouldn't actually be happening.

"Rosalie Lillian Hale! Shut up right now! I swear to fucking God, you are… Right now, I don't even know why we're friends!" Alice's voice echoed in the mostly silent room, even Emmett's humming over the food seemed muffled. In the face of Alice's rage, everything faded into the background.

The vitriol lacing her words even caused Rose's face to register shock, and possibly even a faint trace of fear. Hell, I was caught up a bit short by it; I had never seen my sister as angry as she was at that moment, and no one pissed Alice off more than me. To have her rage directed at someone else for once – especially Rose, whom Alice hardly ever got seriously angry at – was shocking, to say the least. _Not that I didn't perversely enjoy it._

"Girls, really…" Esme attempted to diffuse the situation, but Alice just kept right on shouting at Rose until, finally, I'd had enough.

Standing, I dropped my napkin on top of my barely-touched plate of food. "It's nice to know that you all have nothing better to do than sit around judging me for everything I do, speculating about what I might be doing, and blaming me for everything that happened with Bella, but you know what? Enough is fucking enough. Bella was a willing participant in whatever it was that _we _had and yes, in the end, I fucked it up and your relationships with her were affected by it.

"I'm really fucking sorry for that – I am – and if I could go back and change things I would, but I can't. I've tried fixing things with Bella, but she won't give me a chance to; she wants no part of it and now…she's moved on.

"You guys got her back, though, and I have nothing – _nothing_. All I can do now is pick myself up and move on as best as I can. If that means trying to have a relationship with someone, then I'm gonna do that. Don't begrudge me whatever little bit of happiness I manage to find. You all seem so fucking happy that she's moved on, when the time comes that I manage to do the same, I can only hope – fruitlessly, I'm sure – that you'll extend me the same courtesy.

"However, if I were involved romantically with _Charlotte _–" I stressed her name, directing my glare pointedly at Rose, "– which I'm not, it would really be none of your fucking business. Maybe all the shit I get over being friends with her would be actually be worth it and bother me less, if I were getting some of the benefits that come with being in a relationship.

"Mom, I love you, and you outdid yourself with the food again this year. Dad, thanks for letting me tag along on your rounds; it's been too long. I'm gonna go. I've got an early shift tomorrow, and a long drive home. Everyone else, stay the fuck out of my business, and don't call me, I'll call you."

I left the table, grabbed my bag from my room and left without saying another word. When I walked downstairs to go out to my car, Rose and Alice were still going at it. I felt bad that my mother's dinner was ruined, but I didn't care to stop and listen to what was being said; I just didn't have it in me to deal with any more shit. It was about me, because of me, but in reality it had nothing to do with me…if that even makes sense.

.

~∞Ѿ∞~

.

Half-way to Seattle, Charlotte called to wish me a Happy Thanksgiving, and seemed to instantly pick up on my mood. "Why don't you stop by on your way home and have a piece of pie with me. At least that way your day won't have been a complete waste. It's not Thanksgiving without pumpkin pie!"

I was going to turn her down, I really didn't want to be around anyone just then, but I thought about it, and decided why the fuck not. It was better than going home and moping the entire night, so I told her yes, and when she asked me to stay over, I told her yes then, too.

If I had to pinpoint when things really took a turn toward being in a relationship, I would say that night, but if I were honest, I'd have to say it probably began before then – maybe even before we first slept together. At the time, though, I didn't see it that way. We were simply two lonely people, enjoying one another's company, and occasionally having sex.

I tried to keep things casual with Char, but somehow, through no attempt of mine, it seemed as if we were spending more and more of our time together, always at her place, never at mine. I just couldn't bring myself to cross that boundary, and she never pushed the issue.

.

~∞Ѿ∞~

.

Alice and Rose didn't speak for nearly a month, not until right before Christmas, and it was hard on my sister because she'd never had many friends; really just Rose and Bella…_and it was partially my fault. You know, man-whore and all._ She had acquaintances, of course – Alice's outgoing and bubbly personality tended to draw people in – but she never let anyone get too close, and didn't spend much time with anyone outside of our little group.

Of course, things had been shaky with the gang since Bella's departure and my subsequent sequestering, but now, with Rose and Alice on the outs, it had completely fallen apart, and Alice really wasn't handling it well. She was trying to hide it, but she wasn't fooling anyone least of all me. The vibrancy in her eyes was missing, leaving them flat and reminiscent of the way they had looked during the whole fucked up Alaska/Chicago thing. I wasn't about to let Alice turn back into the shell she had been back then, so I told myself to suck it up and I began to make an attempt. For Alice.

The holiday season wasn't exactly my favorite time of year, but Alice loved it, which meant that, having vowed to resume an active presence in Alice's life, I was condemned to a month of holiday hell. I was dragged all over the place, with a smile on my face – the kicking and screaming only took place in my head, because I was trying to make her happy, after all. We went to Leavenworth to enjoy the season Bavarian-style and shop; to Westlake Shopping Center for the tree lighting, parade and more shopping; to Point Defiance Zoo and Aquarium for Zoolights; and to every mall in King County, at least, once to shop. We also attended various Winterfest events at the Seattle Center, The Nutcracker…twice, and hosted a tree decorating night at Alice and Jazz's place.

She wanted to have one at my house as well, but that's where I put my foot down. _Oh, hell to the na-nay-no!_ I did make it up to her, though. I didn't throw a shit fit when I came home to find that the North Pole had thrown up in my apartment. Not once did I bitch about the stupid holiday towels replacing the normal, _plain_ ones in my kitchen and bathrooms, or the poinsettia throw pillows on my couch and loveseat. To top it all off, I managed to refrain from objecting when Alice insisted that Charlotte accompany us every time we got together.

I didn't like the way Alice had latched onto Char in the absence of Bella and Rose, but it's not as if I could tell them not to hang out. They seemed to genuinely like each other, and Alice needed a friend, but why my friend? Why couldn't she go find one of her own, and why did she seem so insistent upon bringing her into our inner circle…well, what was left of it? It seemed traitorous, Alice befriending the girl I occasionally slept with, and I could barely look at the two of them, laughing and chatting happily, without feeling a nearly incapacitating surge of anger. Alice still considered Bella her best friend, but proximity was…well, proximity, and Bella was all the way in New York while Char was right here. I could understand, but I didn't have to like it. At all.

Naturally, Alice was the one who suggested Charlotte accompany me home for Christmas…_it sure as fuck wasn't my idea_. It would have been nice, however, had she not suggested it in front of Charlotte, leaving me unable to say no without looking like a huge dick; Alice always was a brilliant manipulator. Although, to be honest, I don't think she did it to play games with me, I think she just didn't want to face Rose without an ally in the world. That or she simply wanted to rub it in Rose's face that she didn't need her. Regardless, it was probably the worst thing she could have done if she were trying to avoid a fight or another scene like we had at Thanksgiving, but Alice does what Alice wants.

.

~∞Ѿ∞~

.

"I'm not trying to be a dick or anything, but what the fuck were you thinking inviting Char to come with us for Christmas? Honestly, Alice, have you lost your fucking mind?"

"Seriously? Her family isn't coming to see her, and she can't go see them due to her schedule at the hospital. I couldn't just let her spend Christmas alone," Alice argued. "Frankly, I'm disappointed that you didn't invite her."

"I don't even like the two of you hanging out, so why the hell would I invite her to spend the holiday with the whole family? I wouldn't be going if I didn't have to," I admitted.

"Why don't you want her to hang out with me?" Alice shrilled.

"Well, for one, she's _my_ friend, not yours; two, I'm not comfortable with her cozying up to my family and friends; and three…isn't it awfully disloyal of you to befriend her?"

"We can have the same friends! We _do _have the same friends. I don't understand why you have a problem introducing your girlfriend to the family."

"She's not my _girlfriend_!" I denied adamantly.

"Um…you do everything together, you talk to her about your problems, you sleep over – and I assume you're not sleeping on the couch when you do – so, how is she not your girlfriend?"

"She's just not!"

"Are you sleeping with her?"

"Alice!"

"Are you?" she demanded, all focused and tenacious like a small terrier with a rope.

"Yes."

"Are you sleeping with anyone else?"

"I don't have to tell you that," I hedged; too ashamed of the truth to want to confess it.

"Are you?"

"Alice –"

"Are you?" she kept on, pugnaciously.

"No."

"And do you guys have meals together, and go to the movies? Do you make plans, and has she ever said, 'it's a date, then,' when confirming those plans?"

I thought about it, and then reluctantly answered, "Yeah?"

"And when you're doing those things, do you ever hold hands?"

"Yes?" _But strictly in a non-relationship-y, 'we're together' way._

"Then, sorry to say, buddy, but she's your girlfriend."

"She's not my girlfriend," I insisted weakly. "I mean she is in the sense that she's a girl and she's my friend, whom I sometimes…on occasion do things with, and also – every now and then – sleep with, but we're not together-_together_, or anything. I mean, it's not exclusive. Neither of us has ever implied that it's something more, and she knows it."

Alice fixed me with a hard stare and then stated again, firmly, and in an annoyingly sing-songy voice, "She's your girl-friend!"

Stated like that – laid out all plain and obviously – I couldn't muster up enough denial to refute it again. I felt sick with a truth that I'd known for a while, but hadn't wanted to admit to myself.

"Now, why don't you want her to come with you for Christmas…and what in the hell do you mean by _disloyal_? Disloyal to whom?"

"Bella," I stated softly. "It feels disloyal to Bella. She's all the way on the other side of the country, all alone, and Charlotte's here celebrating the holidays with what should have been her boyfriend, her family, and her friends…she has everything that _was _Bella's, that _is_ Bella's. She's going to feel so replaced…by all of us. I've hurt her enough as is, Alice, I don't want to take that from her as well."

"Being friends with Char doesn't mean that Bella and I are no longer friends; I can have other friends, y'know. Bella wouldn't expect us to not get along with your girlfriend, nor would she expect us to exclude her simply because of whatever happened between the two of you."

"Does she know your friends with her? Does she know about her?"

"She knows about Charlotte, but if you're asking if I told her about the two of you, the answer is no. I told you both that I wouldn't discuss either of you with the other, and I've kept my promise."

"Right, Alice, right. That's the only reason you haven't told her who Charlotte is. Keep telling yourself that."

"It is, Edward, and it wouldn't bother her!"

"You don't know that for sure, and you're an idiot if you think it won't."

"Maybe it will, I'll find out eventually, but, Edward, the world – Bella's world – doesn't revolve around you anymore. She's moved on…just like you have."

_Hah!_ Moved on? I hadn't truly attempted to do anything of the sort; I'd simply resigned myself to my lot in life and, from there, allowed the chips to fall as they might. I couldn't tell Alice this, of course, so I kept my mouth shut…_sort of._

"Still, it's not fair for Char to be sitting in Bella's seat at the dinner table while Bella's alone in New York." It was my last ditch effort to get Alice to rescind the invitation she'd extended to Char, and it was going to…fail.

"Bella's not spending Christmas alone. She'll be with her boyfriend…in New York." Alice's eyes narrowed, peering at me shrewdly, and I just stood there impassively, careful to maintain my façade of neutrality despite the turmoil below the surface.

How could I explain to her that the reason I didn't want my so-called _girlfriend_…_I really didn't like that word_…to get involved with my family was because that would make it real, and I didn't want it to be real? How did I tell her that any feelings I had for Char outside of friendship, were lukewarm at best? How did I tell her that I would _never_ stop wanting Bella and that, even when I was with Char, I was wishing she were Bella? How could I express to her the devastation her tidbit of news was wreaking, or the irrational rage that was slowly starting to consume me?

I couldn't, so instead, I replied, "Still…"

.

~∞Ѿ∞~

.

"If I'm going to spend Christmas with your family, Edward, I really think I should meet them beforehand. It's going to be awkward enough with everyone else there," I knew she meant Emmett and Rosalie…_mostly Rose,_ "I don't want things to be awkward between them and me. Don't you think they should know that you're involved with someone – maybe even have a chance to meet that someone – before you just show up with her?"

Charlotte was making a big deal of wanting to meet my parents prior to Christmas. She was all tense and nervous like meeting them was a big deal, some big step in whatever it was she thought was going on between us…_God, I was such a dick_…and she desperately wanted to make a good impression; she wanted them to like her. I probably should have been a bit more sensitive, but I really didn't give a shit whether they liked her or not. In fact, my preference was that they didn't, which probably should have told me something, but I chose to ignore it.

Christmas was two weeks away, and we both had the upcoming weekend off, something that rarely ever happened. We'd been bickering for over an hour when I finally said fuck it and gave her what she wanted. She was going to meet them soon enough anyway, and it wasn't like she didn't have a point – it would be easier to meet them without the pressure of family and the holiday to deal with, too, so that weekend we went to Forks and I introduced Charlotte to my parents. It wasn't the most fun I'd ever had. Of course, maybe it wouldn't have been so tense had I given them a heads up that I was coming, not to mention bringing someone.

"Mom, Dad…this is my friend Charlotte Lewis. Charlotte, these are my parents, Carlisle and Esme Cullen."

They exchanged greetings and expressed pleasure at meeting one another – Charlotte shyly, but with a slight edge of anger that only I detected, and my parents awkwardly and just a little uncomfortably. I supposed I really should have given them a heads up, but I hadn't wanted to have that conversation with them.

"Right then, I'll just take our bags up to our rooms then. Be right back."

My mother raised her eyebrow at the word 'rooms,' but I just shrugged subtly and grabbed our bags. As I disappeared upstairs, grateful for the reprieve, I heard my mother shifting into hostess mode. "Can I get you some tea or coffee, dear?"

"Tea would be lovely, Mrs. Cullen. Thank you."

"Follow me then. Carlisle, tea?"

"Hmm? Oh, uh…no, Es, but thank you."

"Well, it'll just be us then. So how do you know Edward?"

"We're in the same med program. We just hit it off, and we've been seeing each other for a while now, but we've been friends for longer…"

I didn't catch the rest of their conversation, as they wandered off to the kitchen then, but it sounded like she'd done enough damage. I should have never left them alone together. It's not as if what she'd said had been totally inaccurate, I just wasn't comfortable putting labels on it…especially not in front of my parents, but I suppose the truth was bound to come out sooner or later. Brushing it off with a sigh, I finished ascending the stairs, putting my bag in my room and Charlotte's in one of the rarely-used rooms down the hall from mine. I thought about putting her on the second floor, but the only available room aside from my sister's was Bella's room, and wasn't about to put the girl I was sleeping with in her room. It was bad enough that I brought her home.

.

~∞Ѿ∞~

.

Charlotte wasn't happy with me – for a lot of very obvious reasons – when we were finally alone as I was showing her upstairs to her room, and she let me know it. Of course, afterwards, being the way-too-understanding and forgiving girl she was, she apologized and wanted to make it up to me, but I told her I was tired and showed her to her room.

"I'm not staying in your room with you?"

"Charlotte, we're in my parents' house."

"Yeah, and you're an adult. It's not like they don't know you've had sex," she countered. _That was a low blow. True, but low nonetheless._

"Not gonna happen, Charlotte." I was sticking to my guns. I couldn't do that there, not in that bed, in that room, not with that girl. I kind of felt as if my parents' house was sacred, it was Bella's and I didn't want to defile it the way I defiled everything else about us. It wasn't as if it was sacrosanct or I hadn't done it there before – The Whore Who Shall Not Be Named and Who I Blamed For Fucking Things Up With Bella came to mind (yes, I was entirely to blame, but it was nice to have a face to blame that wasn't the one looking back at me in the mirror) – but I wasn't that guy anymore.

"Goodnight, Charlotte. Sweet dreams." I left her at her door with a chaste kiss to her temple, and went to my room where I tossed and turned, remembering all the times Bella and I had shared during the middle of the night in the privacy of my room…and not the sex either. _Well, not just the sex._ All the philosophical discussions, the movie marathons, hashing out our problems, or even just the sprawling out across my couch or bed, each of us wrapped up in our own book. Eventually, I fell asleep, and managed to get through the remainder of the the weekend – awkward and uncomfortable as it was – in one piece.

.

~∞Ѿ∞~

.

"I don't think your mother likes me."

It was the day after Christmas and Charlotte and I had just returned to her place after having spent the most uncomfortable, but surprisingly altercation free Christmas in the history of Cullen Family Christmases ever. And I mean ever. Not even the year we caught Emmett and Rose doing…_cringe_…things that I've tried very hard to forget, had a holiday been more uncomfortable. Hell, the past Thanksgiving had been more pleasant a meal and there had been a full-on bitch fight during the main course. Everyone, including the Queen Bitch herself, had been on their best behavior. A bit icy and taciturn, but well-behaved. Anyway, I wasn't surprised by the conversation. I'd been waiting for it, so I'd had time to prepare and come up with a response.

I had nothing.

"Why would you say that?" I inquired, buying myself some time.

"I don't know, she just seemed so reluctant to include me in…well, anything, really. It felt as if she only included me as an afterthought, and she was so cheerful and nice talking to everyone else, but every time she talked to me she just seemed to…I don't know, deflate."

"It's not that she doesn't like you, you're just…new, that's all. She doesn't _not _like you, she doesn't know you yet. Just give her time; she'll warm up to you eventually."

"Really?" she asked skeptically, but obviously wanting to believe me.

_No._ _I hope not. _"Really, really. She's nice to Rosalie."

She chuckled halfheartedly as she curled up at my side, pressing against me, seeking out comfort, and I let her. I pretended to continue reading my book, but I was really mulling over the surreptitious standoff between my family, and Charlotte and myself. An invisible line had been drawn in the sand between us and them…well, mostly my mother and her; myself and the others were misaligned.

My mother was never rude to Charlotte, per se. Outwardly, she was the model of a gracious and hospitable hostess, but there was something…a reluctance in her eyes, and a certain, not exactly coldness, but lack of warmth in their interactions. I had known that Char had to have felt it, but that had been the first she said about it; to me, at least. Regardless of whether she complained about it or not, I should have cared, and should have said something to my mother about it, but I didn't.

The truth was, I didn't _want _my mother to like her too much, and I certainly didn't want her to love her. Bella was like a daughter to her – even if she would never get the opportunity to actually be one – and if my mother were to love Charlotte it would taint their bond. I wanted someone in my family to remain loyal to her – Lord knew the rest of us were turncoats – and I couldn't take away the closest thing to a mother that she had in her life.

The closer we drew to the end of February, the more obsessed I grew with proving wrong the adage that you can never go home again; I didn't want Bella to feel like an outsider, and I especially didn't want her to think that Char had taken her place.

.

~∞Ѿ∞~

.

New Years came and went.

Time was ticking down.

…_you've got to pull yourself together; you got stuck in a moment and you can't get out of it_…

I was stuck in a situation that I didn't know how to solve and, with the end of February drawing ever nearer, things were only becoming more complicated. I didn't know what to do about Charlotte. On the one hand, the idea of facing Bella with a girlfriend made me feel like a liar and a fraud, while on the other, knowing that Bella was involved with someone, and that it was serious, made the idea of facing her alone more than a little intimidating.

I kept wavering between wanting her to know my heart still belonged to her, and wanting to show her that if she could move on, then so could I…even if I really hadn't. I cared about Charlotte, I really did. I'd even go as far as saying that I loved her in some smallish, minute way, but I knew I wasn't _in love _with her. Things were comfortable between us, easy. She didn't pressure me – didn't ask much of me really. She was content letting me just drift along, and I was content to drift; I couldn't have Bella, and Char helped ward away the loneliness. I enjoyed her company, but I didn't long for her when she wasn't there. We were bland. Boring. And I was in too deep – she was too tangled up in my life – for me to get out.

The scales of my indecision were finally tipped by news from Alice.

"So, Mom's put together a little welcome back dinner this Friday for Bella, and before you can say no, I already know you don't have to work and Mom expects you to be there, so you can't bail."

"How do you know I don't have to work?"

"I…mayhaveaskedCharlotte," she blurted.

"Fucking great, Alice! Really fucking great! Now I'm going to have to ask her to come. Thanks a fucking lot!" I shouted at her throwing my hands up in exasperation. _Really fucking great, indeed._

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry, but Mom said I had to make sure you came…and if I didn't then she was going to call Charlotte herself. So…better me than Mom. Besides, Bella was going to find out sooner or later and I'm sure you can find a way to dissuade her from coming if you really want. I'm sorry," she added again, actually looking somewhat contrite, but I didn't know whether to believe it or not. She turned to leave, leaving me in my kitchen with my bowl of cereal.

"Yeah, whatever," I snapped, needing to have the last word. _However lame and childish it may have sounded._ "Thanks for ruining my day. And I'm really changing the locks this time. I'm calling the locksmith right now, Alice!"

"Whatever, big brother," she replied right before I heard the door shut, allowing her to get the last word. _Dammit!_

The aftermath of her visit left me feeling sick to my stomach but, figuring there was no time like the present, I picked up my phone to call Charlotte, trying to get myself out of the mess Alice and my mother had gotten me into.

"_Hello?"_

"Charlotte…"

"_Oh, hey, honey!"_

I cringed at her greeting. "Uh, yeah…hi."

"_Did your sister tell you the plans for the Friday night? Something about dinner at your parents'."_

"Um, yeah…that's what I was calling about. It was actually cancelled, so…"

"_Really? I just got off the phone with your mother and she didn't say anything to me about it being…"_

"Wait. Why were you were on the phone with my mother? When?" _What. The. Fuck?_

"_Um…"_ she let out a mirthless chuckle, _"just now, and I called her to ask if she needed us to bring anything."_

I was so fucked.

"Oh, well…Alice must have been wrong then."

And getting railroaded every direction I looked.

.

~∞Ѿ∞~

.

* * *

**Songs Used:**  
(In Order of Appearance)  
_I'm Not In Love_, 10cc  
_Stuck In a Moment_, U2

* * *

**A/N:  
**Badward and Belligerent reunion next chapter. That oughta be fun. This chapter, while not my least favorite nor my most favorite, was kind of a pain to write, so I'd like to hear your thoughts.

I was major fail at replying to reviews last chapter, and my apologies for that. I'm trying to get to them. Replying honestly stresses me out. I feel like I've got to bring it…what exactly _'it' _is, I'm not sure, but 'it' I still must bring. (Insert lines from _Bring It On_ – awful movie, by the way – or _Not Another Teen Movie_, which was pricelessly stupid and funny. _'This isn't a cheer-ocracy. I make the cheer-cisions, I will deal with the cheer-onsequences.'_)

**Thanks for reading!**

**Fic Rec's:**  
_Beyond the Seventh Circle_ by Amelie Grey  
_Starry Eyed Inside_ by Rochelle Allison  
_America's Sweethearts _by ciaobella27  
_What Speaks In Darkness _by cosmogirl7481


	8. Chapter 8 Mama, I'm Comin' Home

**Disclaimer: **S. Meyer owns all recognizable characters, plots, etc. Only original content, characters, etc. belongs to author. No copyright infringement intended. Any errors contained herein, are expressly the fault of the authors idiocy, and not her betas.

**Word Count:** 10,940

**A/N: I apologize in advance for the length of this note. Thank you's at the top, but important info in the latter half.**

I can't express enough my appreciation to V for betaing and Char for helping me get it right/keeping me on track, but I will never stop trying. Also thanks to Em and Ali for helping me with a couple parts that needed tweaking.

I confuse myself at times because I tend to work on chapters simultaneously. For example, while writing this chapter I was also working on chapters nine and ten, so I apologize if I ever say anything confusing in a review reply.

Speaking of replies, yours rocked last chapter. I think I replied to all of you, but apologize if I missed you. For anyone who's interested and didn't already read it, there was a great discussion regarding Alice and Charlotte on page 236 of the Twi'd BH thread, link is on my profile.

Please forgive my tardiness in getting this chapter out to you. Between Thanksgiving, four solid days of a migraine so painful Athena herself couldn't have made it worse (if you don't get the reference, look it up), finally finding a new job and unexpectedly starting the day after the interview, I have valid reasons for my epic fail.

My goal has been to get chaps out every two weeks, but it's going to be closer to a month, most likely, from now on. With this new job, at best I'm only able to write for an hour a day during the week. So, unless I find a new job or are fired... I'm terribly sorry about this, but it can't be helped; I gotta eat too. This story will be finished; it's just going to take me a bit longer than I'd planned.

Also, I know I said the reunion would be in this chapter, but I didn't realize how much stuff needed to occur before I could get there; my eagerness to get there got the best of me. When I hit 13k without having finished the dinner, I knew I was fucked. At 18k, I knew I'd have to split it. So, the next chapter is written, it just needs to be edited, and should post in no more than two weeks. I suck, I'm aware of this. Shutting-up now.

Enjoy.

**Chapter 8—Mama, I'm Comin' Home**

_Times have changed, and times are strange_…  
…_Here I come, but I ain't the same_..._  
_…_Times go by it seems to be you could have been a better friend to me_…_  
_…_You took me in, and you drove me out, you had me hypnotized, yeah  
Lost and found and turned around by the fire in your eyes  
You made me cry, you told me lies, but I can't stand to say goodbye_…_  
_…_I could be right, I could be wrong; it hurts so bad, it's been so long_…_  
_…_Selfish love, yeah_…_the ride before the fall,  
But I'm gonna take this heart of stone, I just got to have it all  
I've seen your face a hundred times every day we've been apart  
I don't care about the sunshine, yeah  
'Cause mama, mama, I'm comin' home_..._  
_**- **Ozzy Osbourne

**~∞Ѿ∞~**

**.**

_Last Time in BPOV –_

_._

_I'd had to endure the effete gushing of Charlie and Billy Black for more than thirty minutes. _'We're both so happy you two are together.' 'We've always hoped this would happen.' 'After two girls, I was thrilled to finally get a son, and my wife used to joke that the only reason I wanted a boy so badly was so that the Swans and Blacks could be united and finally be family.' 'It doesn't matter that you're not Quileute because you're Charlie's little girl.' Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah! Are you kidding me? _Not interested because it was making me sick to my stomach and threatening to rain on my decisive day parade, I stopped listening. If I hadn't felt as if I were stuck with Jake before, I certainly did after that. With every word they'd uttered, I faltered just a little more. _

…so let me slip away…

_I felt like Atlas, only instead of my punishment being to hold up the heavens, I bore the hopes and expectations of three grown men, and wanted nothing more than to crumple under the weight. The thought of disappointing all of them made my knees knock, and I momentarily reconsidered the conversation I was planning to have with Jake when he returned, but I wouldn't be deterred, not when I was so close to a resolution. If there was ever a time for me not to let the perceived pressure of others keep me from finding happiness, it was now._

…slight hope, it dangles on a string like slow spinning redemption...

.

~∞Ѿ∞~

.

My plan—to sleep through the remainder of Thanksgiving—went bust, though not for lack of trying on my part. It was a great plan…in theory, but once in bed, I tossed and turned for hours, sleep eluding me, and was actually grateful when I heard my phone ringing in the living room. Tired of being alone with my thoughts and myself, I rushed to the living room and, without checking Caller I.D., eagerly answered my phone.

"'Ello."

"Alice Cullen is a fucking bitch!"

"Well…hello to you, too, Rose."

"Hi," she snapped, the agitation in her voice as loud as the sound of her heels…_click-clack, click-clack, click-clack_...against the shiny hardwood floor at her parents' as she paced back and forth.

"That's better. Now, what are you going off about, and why is Alice the devil?"

"Not the devil—a fucking bitch. Get it right."

"Okay—_fucking bitch_! Why?"

"So, we're eating dinner, Edward's being his usual sulking, pouty, anti-social, assbag-self—you know, totally not participating and shutting down everyone's attempts at conversing with him—and Emmett's totally bothered by it and drinking like a fish. Edward's just completely disappeared from his life and, while I might not mind, Em misses the shit out of him. Anyway, I finally get fed up and decide to rile him up some, because at least then he won't be acting so fucking numb that he seems almost dead."

My heart aches at her description of him, because I know it well. After all, I saw it in the mirror—still do sometimes—everyday for months, but I didn't want to hear it. I mean, she had to know that I didn't want to hear about him, but she just wouldn't shut-up or allow me to get a word in edgewise, and interrupting her when she was in one of her snits only caused her wrath to turn on you, so I kept my mouth shut. However, I had a feeling that I was too sober for wherever her rant was headed.

"So, I ask Edward where his girlfriend's at…"

_Wait… Girlfriend?_ _What the…_ Yeah, definitely too sober.

My stomach clenched, making me worry I was going to be sick, and I had the overwhelming desire to hang up on her, but I couldn't. She was my friend and she needed me, therefore, I was required to stay on the line…but there was no rule saying that I had to be either lucid or sober while fulfilling my duty. Going to the kitchen, I grabbed the first bottle of liquor I found in the cabinet, sat on the floor and, forgoing a shot glass, began drinking, wincing with each burning pull.

"…and then Alice actually had the _nerve_ to defend Edward and that tramp he's seeing! I mean, what the fuck, Bella? She chose some new girl—Assward's flavor of the week—over me—her oldest friend—all because Edward swears they aren't together, that they're just friends and classmates? I'd have to be fucking stupid to buy that line of bullshit."

Rose could be a bit…blind to other people's feelings at times, but this was ridiculous even for her. _Could she grind the salt any deeper into my wounds?_

Still, I found myself asking…_and hoping_, "Well, if Alice defended him, maybe it's true? Maybe they really are just friends?"

Rose snorted…loudly. "Seriously, Bella? Edward 'I Fucked Half of Forks' Female Population Between the Ages of Fifteen and Twenty-four' Cullen doesn't hang out with chicks—he fucks them. You of all people should know better considering for five years we all thought you and him were _just _friends. We know the truth about that, now, don't we?"

"Right, Rose, thanks for reminding me. I'd almost forgotten about the most painful experience of my life. What would I ever do without you?"

"You don't need to be a bitch, Bella. God, are you actually on their side?"

"What? No! I'm not on anyone's side, but I have to say that I think you're overreacting a bit." _Now you've gone and done it. Ka-boom!_

Sure enough…

"I'm over—I'm overreacting? I'm looking out for you! You could show a little fucking gratitude!"

…Rose delivered.

"Rose…" I sighed, trying to formulate my thoughts—_how to say what I needed to say without pissing her off any more_—but nothing sounded right. Instead, I helped myself to more liquid courage, said a Hail, Mary…_what? It couldn't hurt_…and winged it. "I appreciate and love you for wanting to defend me, but you can't fight my battles. It's been more than a year, Ro, let it go.

"I'm over it—" _no, I wasn't,_ "—I'm seeing Jake now, and Edward's moved on as well, _apparently _—" _so much for undying love,_ "—so you should let it rest. You're going to be family in just a few months; you can't keep doing this. It's already causing problems between you and Alice, and it's eventually going to cause problems between you and Emmett. Don't let this—my bullshit with Edward—come between the two of you.

"You know Em better than anyone—how long do you think he's going to sit back watching you start shit with Edward before he puts a stop to it? Whatever happened between Edward and I is just that—between us. Regardless, it's ancient history; Edward and I have both moved on—you need to do the same."

Rose remained uncharacteristically silent, actually letting me speak my peace without interrupting once, so I treated myself to a victory shot.

"You know what, Bella?" her voice was soft, disarming. "Fuck you!" I spit my drink out, spraying my lap and the floor—spoke too soon. _Turned out Elvis hadn't, in fact, left the building. _"You are so completely unappreciative…"

On and on she went, throwing a shit fit of epic proportions, ranting about Edward, his new girlfriend, Alice, and me, but I only listened with half an ear as I steadily sipped my whiskey. She finished—unexpectedly and abruptly, with, "Find someone else to whine about Edward to, because I'm done listening or caring." _Click._

She hung up...without even bothering to say goodbye. _How rude!_ And for the record, I never whined to her about Edward; I didn't discuss him with anyone. _For real, I was done with the Goddamn day._ Powering my phone down, I proceeded to get pissed; it was that or cry, and I was done crying.

I awoke the next morning on the kitchen floor—stiff, sore and cold.

…_I just dropped in to see what condition my condition was in_...

Looking around me, assessing the state of affairs, and imagining Angela's reaction had she found me like that, I chuckled. _Can you say 'intervention'?_ My head was throbbing, yet I couldn't seem to stop the hysterical laughter that bubbled out of me, and then turned on me quickly, spilling over in watery heartbreak. _Why, why now? _I couldn't help wondering. Were we doomed to spend life as ships passing in the night, never to charter the same course? Had I been right all along, were we just not meant to be? _Or was I, perhaps, being melodramatic?_

I wanted to give Edward the benefit of the doubt, and hold on to the sliver left of me that believed…_hoped_…he could change, but the seed of doubt had been planted, and I didn't have enough faith in him—or in me—necessary to risk it all on the slim chance that Rose was wrong. Each tear brought me closer to viewing Rose's phone call as a miracle keeping me from making a mistake I would forever regret. It couldn't have been coincidence that kept me from turning my phone off.

I knew what I had to do. Edward and I were through. I would stay with Jake.

.

~∞Ѿ∞~

.

When I finally picked myself up off the floor, I dried my tears and didn't shed another. It still hurt—_I _still hurt—but at the same time, the matter having been decided for me brought me some peace since I couldn't be held entirely accountable if it was the wrong choice. _Keep telling yourself that, sweetheart._ On top of that was the relief of not having to break Jake's heart, thus dashing the hopes of our fathers. My shoulders felt lighter, but there remained in my gut a persistent heaviness trying to drag me down and I was certain it wasn't caused by my over-indulgence the night before.

I spent my final night alone, before Jake and Angela were supposed to return, dealing with my feelings and sorting things out, eventually finding the strength of will to close for good the book on Edward and me…_and then locking it away in a deep corner of my soul._ By the time Jake returned, I was fully committed to our relationship. Ready to move forward with my life, with _our _life, I threw myself into 'us' with renewed vigor—or perhaps I only just threw myself into it. Either way, it wasn't overlooked by Jake, who more than once commented, "Jeeze, had I known I would get this kind of welcome, I would have gone away sooner."

Sure, there was still the odd moment now and then when I would slip and find myself thinking, _'this was different with Edward,'_ but, with practice, I quickly became adept at ignoring them and the moments grew further and further apart. I loved and cared about Jake, but still my feelings felt lukewarm compared to the ones I'd had for Edward. _Had? Ooooo-kay, keep telling yourself that. _Deep down, I think Jake believed that he could be in love enough for both of us, that maybe if he loved me hard enough, I would return it in some part to him—and I did try—but I never felt as if I managed. It seemed as if disappointment—his or my own, I didn't know—was constantly staring back at me from his eyes, mocking me, so I'd try harder, but the more I'd try, the further I'd fall, and this was yet another failure for me. I was swimming in fucking guilt, and I hated it, but I'd made my own bed and like a good girl, I had to lie in it.

Jake and I slipped into a comfortable routine of mediocrity. Dinner, the movies, sex, blowjobs when I didn't feel like faking it…you know, the usual. _For fuck's sake, I'm such a bitch!_ In truth, Jake was a great boyfriend. He did everything he could to make me feel special, to show me how much he loved me, and the sex really wasn't bad…it just wasn't the same as it had been with Edward. Maybe it was because he lacked the experience that Edward had—some of which he'd earned at my expense—I don't know, but he couldn't make my body sing, make it burn and ache the way Edward had.

Whatever the reason, it was irrelevant. Good sex wasn't a solid enough foundation on which to build a lasting relationship and, despite Edward and I having had some of the elements besides the physical down, the important ones such as faith, loyalty, honesty and commitment had been noticeably absent. Oh, and there had also been the little matter of I was in love with him, and he just liked to fuck me.

I had those things with Jake. He may not have been Edward, but everything that had been wrong or missing between Edward and me, I had with Jake, and I may not have been _in_ love with him, but I did honestly love him and knew I could find a modicum of happiness with him; that was going to have to be enough for me.

.

~∞Ѿ∞~

.

"So, I know your lease is up in a couple months," Jake started, shortly before Christmas. We were hanging out at my place as usual, Jake watching television while I read a book, sprawled out on the other end of the couch.

I looked up from my book, curious, but leery. "Yeah?"

"Well, have you and Ange talked about what you're going to do?"

Perplexed, my forehead wrinkled. "Going to do? About what?"

"You keep saying that she wants to move in with Ben, but I know you can't afford this place on your own, so I was thinking…why don't I move in with you? We can renew the lease until I finish school, and then we can decide what to do from there."

"I'm not staying in New York, Jake. I'm going back to Seattle at the end of February. You know that."

"I don't understand why you're going back when you have to immediately return to take your orals for your , and I'm here. I still have another year and a half of school left. You were going to what – just leave and hope for the best? Have you given any thought at all to us? To our future or what's going to happen to us if you leave?"

…_ooh I love to dance a little sidestep, now they see me now they don't, I've come and gone_…

"You always knew that my plan was to go back to Seattle in February. I don't see why you're getting so bent out of shape about it now," I replied defensively, my glaring evasion hanging in the air between us, a silent answer speaking louder than my words.

…_and, ooh I love to sweep around the wide step, cut a little swathe and lead the people on_…

"Things change, Bella. Our relationship has changed. I thought you were finally getting serious about us, that this relationship was important and meant something to you, and I guess I assumed that you would have considered that and changed your plans. Obviously, I was wrong." His words were clipped, tinged with bitter disillusionment rising to anger as shame rose hotly in me, but my own anger soon eclipsed the shame.

"Seriously? Seriously?" I demanded, lashing out. "You just don't fucking get it! Our relationship has nothing to do with my decision."

"Oh, don't I fucking know it!"

I narrowed my eyes at him, countering, "I have obligations in Seattle. I have Rose's wedding, and I've already lined up several job interviews with some great companies! I'm not going to skip out on Rose's wedding or jeopardize my future simply because you don't want me to leave. I love you, but I won't do that, Jake. I can't, and if you loved me, you wouldn't ask me to."

"I'm not asking you to not go to Rose's wedding, or to give up your future, but you don't need to live in Seattle to do that shit. You don't need to go back a month early for the Goddamn wedding, and there are much better job options here than in Washington. Why can't you find something here? I'm sure Angela can get you an interview where she works. It shouldn't be too hard. After all, you did intern there when you first moved here. I'm sure they'd take you back. Why the fuck is it so important for you to go back to Washington? It's not like you have anything to go back to."

…_and then one day you find ten years have got behind you, no one told you when to run, you missed the starting gun_…

"I. Don't. Want. To live. In New York! I have everything to go back to in Seattle; it's home. It's close to my father whom I haven't seen in a year and a half, as well as the friends who are my family. I want to start my career when I finish school. I don't want to just take some job for '_right now_' because, before you know it, _'right now'_ turns into two, five, ten years down the road."

…_every year is getting shorter, never seem to find the time, plans that either come to naught or half a page of scribbled lines_…_  
_

"And then one day you wake up and realize that you never did any of the things you said you would. You're doing something you hate, living somewhere you don't want to be, and it's too late to fix any of it…you're miserable and you're stuck. I'm not going to change my plans or give up my dreams for someone else; I've worked too hard. I won't be that person. I'm sorry, Jake, but I've never lied to you about my plans. You knew from the beginning that I would be moving back home in February."

"You forgot to include 'with someone you don't want to be with' in your list," he informed me bitterly. "That's what this is really about isn't it? It isn't about you not wanting to give up your dreams—because I'm not asking you to do that, I would never ask that—this is about you not wanting to be with me. You're gonna go back to Seattle, and hop right back in _his_ bed, aren't you? Just admit it. Tell me the real reason you refuse to compromise for us."

"Oh, my… Are you fucking kidding me? No, that's not…" I snorted. _The audacity!_ "You might find it hard to believe, but not everything is about him…or you, for that matter. I don't want to be with _him_. That ship has sailed…and then was destroyed in an explosive conflagration in which there were no survivors…" I trailed off, hoping that he hadn't heard the bitter wistfulness lacing my tone.

When I continued, my voice was resolute once again. "I wouldn't be with _you_ if I didn't want to be. Don't insult me by implying I'm an unfaithful whore who's just going jump right back in the sack with Edward the first chance she gets!" _There wouldn't be room for me if I wanted to._ "You know what, I can't even look at you right now. I'm leaving. Why don't you give me a call when you can stop acting like such a jackass, and realize what you have right in front of you.

"I expect you to be gone by the time I get back. I'm out," I called over my shoulder as I walked out the door, slamming it behind me. I put my coat on in the hall, and then stomped down the stairs to the first floor, too impatient to wait for the elevator.

Walking aimlessly around my neighborhood, it struck me that, although I'd basically professed my devotion to him and he'd reacted by throwing out accusations, I was more upset about Edward and I really being through than I was by the possibility of my relationship with Jake ending; I didn't fail to see the irony.

.

~∞Ѿ∞~

.

After our knock-down, drag-out fight, we didn't speak of February again. It was always there between us—what was going to happen with us when I moved back to Seattle—but we ignored the giant pink elephant in the room like it was our job until, eventually, our relationship became a trifecta—me, him, and the elephant.

Time passed, Christmas came and went, followed by New Year's—Jake spent the former in La Push with both of our fathers, _again_, and the latter with me—but each day seemed to drag on longer than the last. I was anxious to get home and start my life, to finally apply the knowledge that I'd just spent the past six years of my life, including summers, learning. I still wasn't certain what I wanted to do with my degree, but the interviews I'd managed to schedule would provide me the opportunity to explore a variety of options.

All of my ducks were effortlessly lining up into their rows. Alice and Rose had finally made up, so I wouldn't be walking into any awkwardness between them. Arrangements to ship my stuff home had been made with the moving company, and once in Seattle I'd secured a place to stay—with Alice and Jasper at their insistence—and found transportation—Esme's old car (old being relative) as Carlisle just bought her a new one for Christmas—since my old truck had finally kicked the bucket. The only thing putting a damper on things was Jake; the more excited I became, the more morose he grew.

Right after the first of the year, he started dropping hints about transferring back to U-Dub and, while I didn't particularly think it was smart, I kept my mouth shut; I mean, it wasn't as if he could do anything about it for a few months. And some time apart would be good for us, it would give us some perspective, and – I don't know… Maybe I hoped the distance would be the demise of our relationship, or that I would realize how much I really did want to be with him. Whatever it was, it ended up not mattering; it seemed that even fate was pushing me into Jake's arms.

The second week of January, Jake's father, who suffered from diabetes, had a significant heart attack, losing the use of his legs due to peripheral arterial disease—apparently, he'd missed all the warning signs. I felt awful for him, and even worse for Jake who had to drop out of school in order to move back home and take care of his father, his sisters being unwilling to take on the burden themselves.

When he received the news, Jake immediately set about wrapping up his life in New York. He was gone in less than a week, leaving me, his loyal and devoted girlfriend, to deal with packing up the rest of his stuff. I didn't really mind, though; he needed to be with his father, and it made sense. If his stuff was shipped back to Washington with mine, we could split the cost.

My last weeks and days in the city flew by in a blur of boxes and bubble wrap and shipping tape, further distorted by the fumes of household cleaners choking up both my place and his. Before I knew it, I was watching the movers load my stuff up, saying goodbye to Angela and Ben, and getting on a plane headed for Seattle, completely unaware of the disappointment that would be waiting for me on the ground.

.

~∞Ѿ∞~

.

Early on the morning of my flight to Seattle, Jake called wanting to pick me up at the airport, but I told him not to bother. I wasn't flying out until the afternoon, and wouldn't get in until late. After dealing with the movers in the morning and then traveling all day, I knew I wouldn't be feeling up to making the drive to Forks, and he still couldn't leave his father overnight. Jake was already annoyed that I hadn't booked a commuter from Seattle, so the fact that I'd arranged to have Alice pick me up and would be staying with her for the night only further aggravated him, which incensed me.

Had his mood not been growing steadily worse every day since he'd left New York, I may have been able to overlook it, but it had, so I couldn't. He was touchy and pissy like a wolf with an abscessed tooth, and I was officially fed-up with it. I didn't want to fight with him, especially not at the crack of dawn on the day I was going home, but I wasn't exactly a morning person, and he'd chosen the wrong moment to push my buttons.

"Jake, what the fuck is your problem? Do you have to be such a dick about this?"

"Seriously, what's wrong with me?" he asked incredulously. "What's wrong with me is that I haven't seen you in over a month, I'm stuck playing nursemaid to my crabby-ass father, and my life is in shambles because of it—only I can't say anything or complain about it without sounding like an ungrateful little son-of-a-bitch. I miss my girlfriend, Bells. I just want to see you for fuck's sake! Is that too much to ask?"

"Jake, I know things are crap right now, and I'm sorry, but not seeing me until tomorrow isn't that big of a deal! You can wait one more day. I'll be in Forks tomorrow. I'm borrowing Esme's old car, so I'll just swing by your dad's place sometime in the late afternoon after I see Charlie."

"Are you sure you can squeeze me in? You really know how to make a man feel good. Way to put everyone before me, the man that you're supposed to love." His voice was dripping with sarcasm. "That's fine, though; just shows me where I rank in your life. Have you even missed me at all?"

The effort I had been putting into keeping the worst of my temper in check disappeared at the acerbity of his tone, leaving me no longer feeling as if I needed to placate or coddle him.

"Of course I've missed you!" I really had. "Excuse me for taking one day to see my family, most of whom I haven't seen in like – a year and a half. Selfish much? I mean, I understand that you're going through a tough time, but it's pretty fucked up that you would begrudge me going to see my family!"

"The Cullens?" he snorted in disbelief. "They aren't your family, Bella. _Charlie's _your family, and he would totally understand you wanting to see me as soon as you could. The Cullens are your friends, and what's bullshit is you putting them before me, _not _me wanting to see you."

_Oh no, he di'nt!_ I was putting a stop to this bullshit now.

"I get that you don't like them, Jake, and that's fine—what-the-fuck-ever—but they _are_ my family, blood relation or not, and the sooner you get that through your head, the better. I'm not going to push them out of my life because you're unhappy that they're part of it; they've been in my life far longer than you have. _ Don't _make me choose, because you'll lose."

"Really? That's – that's – I don't even know what to say to that." He sounded shocked, the disbelief and anger in his voice not quite enough to hide the hurt, and I immediately felt guilty. _Perhaps I'd been a _little _harsh._

I backtracked, unable to leave him feeling that wounded. He was fragile enough as is; I didn't need to kick him when he was down.

"I'm sorry, that was a bit harsh, but Jake…the Cullens _are _family to me, whether you like it or not, and I've missed them. I'm riding with Alice and Jasper to Forks, picking up Esme's car, and then going to see Charlie. I think his shift starts at four, and my welcome home dinner isn't until seven, so you can have me tomorrow from four until like, six-thirty, and all day on Saturday…if you want. It's up to you; take it or leave it. Now, do you want me to come to La Push to see you or not?"

"They're throwing you a welcome home dinner? Were you even going to invite me?"

"Um, no? I didn't really ask if I could…sorry. I mean, it's just the gang, Esme and Carlisle. And you don't even like them, so why would you want to go?"

"I suppose _he's_ going to be there?"

"I don't know. Maybe? I haven't asked. We don't exactly talk about him, y'know?"

"So he might be?"

"I guess. Like I said, I haven't asked. No one's mentioned that he will, but no one's mentioned that he's not, either. I seriously doubt it, though. Why would he want to be there? Is that what this is about? Him? Get over it, Jake. Why is this still an issue? I thought we'd moved past this?"

"I just don't like the idea of you hanging around him. I don't want him worming his way back into your life. He's a piece of shit, Bella."

"So, this is all about you being jealous? Huh! Well, nice to see how little faith you have in me. I'm not stupid enough to go down that road again—been there, done that, got the emotional baggage to prove it—but most important, I'm with you. What's it going to take – what do I have to do to get you to quit with this possessive-caveman bullshit? I just…it's starting to get a bit exhausting. Y'know what – whatever. Are you going to answer me—should I even bother coming to see you tomorrow?"

"Yeah, I guess I'll have to take what I can get—just like always."

"You know what, Jake? I don't have time for this. I have shit to do before the movers get here. I'll call you when I land, okay?"

"Yeah, whatever. I'll see ya tomorrow. Have a safe fight, love you."

_Yeah, I'm feelin' the love, _I thought wryly but, like a trained puppy, obediently replied, "Love you, too."

.

~∞Ѿ∞~

.

The apartment that I'd called home for a year and a half was practically empty, Angela's stuff having been already moved to Ben's. All of my shit, packed in assorted boxes and crates, and the few pieces of furniture I'd brought, along with the cast-off pieces Ange was gifting to me, were stacked tidily against the front wall of the living room. The echo of my footsteps stalked me as I did a final walk-through of the bare and coldly impersonal rooms. All the things that had occurred within these walls—the tears cried, the laughter shared, the battle lines drawn and held, the victories celebrated—all of the ups and downs and turned arounds I'd undergone, and not a trace could be found; it was as if I'd never existed here. I'd always hated apartments.

Angela and Ben arrived just before the movers, bearing pastries and orange juice . They stood in the kitchen watching me as I flitted about the apartment, nibbling a croissant while shoving my toothbrush and pajamas into my suitcase, avoiding making eye contact with Angie at all times. I was determined to get through our goodbye without tears, but her lachrymose expression would be my undoing, so I just…couldn't. Not yet.

Before I knew it, the movers were gone, and it was my turn to make like a fetus. _Heh-heh. And the hiding behind the bad jokes begins._ Staring at the two remaining items in the apartment—my suitcase and my carry-on—already sitting by the door, awaiting my departure, I called for a cab. "Well, I guess that's that. They'll be here in fifteen, so…yeah," I stated, witless wonder that I was, after hanging up, my eyes still locked on my luggage.

"Yeah. Um, do you wanna…? Well, we should probably, y'know…wait out front, right?"

"Right. I'll just…" I gestured toward my bags. Neither of us moved.

"Why don't you girls head down, and I'll see to Bella's bags," Ben piped up helpfully.

"Okay," Ange and I chimed in unison, Angela adding, "We're gonna take the stairs, then…give you more room in the elevator."

As she towed me toward the door, I caught Ben's eye and mouthed my thanks to him. He nodded with a sad smile, making to grab my bags, and then I was out the door. We managed to make it down half a flight of stairs before I heard the first sniffle from Angela.

"Quit it," I ordered.

"I'm not," she replied, clearly lying.

"You are."

"Whatever. Shut up."

I did and, in silence, we made it to the first landing and half way down the next flight of stairs before I sniffled.

"Stop it, Bella."

"I'm not." … "You started it."

"Whatever."

Another landing and a whole flight of stairs later, we both sniffled. Turning and embracing, we bawled like babies—like we said we wouldn't—murmuring about how much we would miss the other. I thanked her for everything, for her shoulder when I cried and a firm hand when I needed a guide, only to have her brush my thanks aside as I knew she would. When our eyes were once again dry—well, as dry as they were going to get—we hurried down the rest of the stairs, and out the front door to find Ben loading my bags into the trunk of the awaiting cab.

With a quick hug to Ben, and a final one to Angela, I was off, en route to J.F.K.

.

~∞Ѿ∞~

.

Still half asleep as I deplaned, I stumbled down the narrow aisle, smiling tiredly at the flight attendant's clichéd 'buh-bye', when I passed by.

Making my way to baggage claim, I staked out a spot next to the empty conveyor belt to wait for my one suitcase. I couldn't have been standing there for more than a minute when a tiny body barreled into me, nearly knocking me on my ass. Without looking, I knew immediately who it was.

"Alice!" I laughed as my overzealous friend did her level best to crack my ribs with the force of her hug, and then groaned, "Can't…breathe…Ali…"

I was thankful when she released me, but it didn't last long. Immediately spun around, I was pulled into an all-encompassing hug that lifted me clean off my feet.

"Bella-boo!" Had Emmett's voice rumbling into my ear not been enough to identify my assailant, being squeezed tightly enough to compress my sternum to my spine would have done the trick.

"Emmett, put her down before you break her," Rosalie ordered with a firm slap to the back of his head, and a roll of her eyes. She waited for my release, before pushing past him to wrap me up in her own crushing embrace, which I barely had a chance to absorb before Jasper was pulling me away.

"Brutes," he declaimed, tossing an arm over my shoulder, all James Dean, casual-cool, and leading me away. "Come, Bellisima. Let's get you out of here. How was your flight?"

I assumed it was a rhetorical question since he didn't wait for my answer. Instead, calling over his shoulder, "Emmett! Get the girl's bags."

"Hey, what am I—a pack-mule or something?" Em loudly complained.

"If the harness fits, babe…" came Rose's retort.

Jasper reached across me just then, unceremoniously pulling my carry-on from my hand and tossing it blindly over his shoulder. From the grunt behind us, I assumed Emmett caught it as Jasper shouted—seconds too late, "Think fast!"

"You're supposed to say it _before_ you throw it, dickhead!" Emmett growled.

"Oops! My bad." _Liar._ Catching me mid-peek, smirk still on his face, Jasper winked, causing me to chuckle and turn away with a shake of my head. _Some things never change._ It was nice to be home.

.

~∞Ѿ∞~

.

We grabbed a bite to eat at some hole-in-the-wall Thai place, whose rundown façade belied the deliciousness of the food inside, and throughout the meal, they regaled me with the most ridiculous stories of things I'd missed. I couldn't remember the last time I'd laughed so bloody much, but judging from the glares of the other patrons, no one else found them humorous. Our waitress confirmed this when she delivered our fortune cookies and check, with a barked, "You done, you go now!"

A bit drunk, Rose was instantly furious, but we managed to get the bill paid and out the door before blood was shed. She passed out in the back of Alice's shiny silver Lexus almost instantly.

Upon arriving at Casa de AliJazz, Jasper stowed my bags in the guest room while Alice showed me around the apartment. My grand tour concluded with the guest room, and came with complimentary turndown service.

"So, here's your room. The bathroom is through there," she stated, pointing to the door in the center of the wall opposite the bed. "There are fresh towels behind the door in the basket on the bottom shelf; cotton balls, q-tips, band-aids, etcetera can be found in the medicine cabinet or in one of the drawers—feel free to explore. Treat the room as yours. Mi casa es su casa, and all that."

"Gotcha. Thanks for letting me stay. You're sure it's not going to be a bother, right? I don't want to cramp your style or anything, and I promise to be out of here as soon as I possibly can."

Alice plopped down on the bed. "You're fine. To tell you the truth, I'd be pissed if you stayed anywhere else. And it's the only way you wouldn't cramp my style, since I can pick out your clothes."

"Wit-ty, Alice, wit-ty," I teased, tossing a pillow at her head. I missed.

"Just another of my many gifts," she boasted. Sobering, she finished, "Well, I'm sure you're tired, so I'll let you settle in. If you need anything, you know where to find me."

She got up, nearly making it to the door before I stopped her.

"Oh, hey! I forgot to ask, what's the plan for tomorrow? What time do you want to leave, so I know what time I need to get up? And does Esme need any help with dinner or anything? I kind of told Jake I would go see him after Charlie leaves for the station, but I'll be back well before dinner." I scrunched up my face when I mentioned Jake, letting her know something was up, but giving her an out should she want it. I needed to vent, but didn't know how to ask, where to start, or if she'd even be interested in hearing it. Luckily, she took the bait.

She made her way back to the bed, sitting down before asking, "Not too happy about you not rushing to his side I take it?"

"That's putting it mildly. He was already upset that I wasn't flying into P.A. or Forks, and then I wouldn't let him pick me up at SeaTac, so…yeah, not so happy that I'm not rushing straight to La Push tomorrow." He hadn't been happy about more than that, but I wasn't about to reveal that. Alice being Alice, I'm sure she knew.

"Am I really so wrong," I continued, "for taking a few hours to see the people that I haven't seen since before I left? I just saw him a few of weeks ago and, before that, we did spend the better part of a year together."

"I can see where he's coming from, _but_…I don't think you're in the wrong. Don't sweat it; he'll get over it. He's under a lot of stress right now between his dad, school, and everything else, and he needs something to keep his head above the water. It'll be fine."

"Yeah, I'm sure you're right," I agreed, my voice downhearted, but with a smile on my face.

The conversation over, Alice's normal ADHD-kid-off-her-meds twitching shifted into nervous fidgeting. The foot-tapping and leg-shaking she'd been doing off and on all evening, had been ignorable—even when she started rapid-cycling between the two…mostly—but when she began tapping her nails on her teeth…I couldn't take that shit any longer.

"Alice! Fuck! You look like you're about to burst out of your skin at any second—and not in a good way. What's got you all wound up? Run out of Ritalin again?"

"No…and I don't take Ritalin!" _Well, she should._ "About dinner… I just… Well, you should…" Alice stammered nervously.

"Jesus Christ, Al! Is Hitler joining us for dinner?" Alice's jaw dropped like it had come unhinged. "Chill the fuck out, it's not that big of a deal. I hadn't been certain that he'd be there, but I also hadn't ruled out the possibility; he is your brother and a member of your family, after all."

Alice's mouth started working, sounds coming out, but none of them words, so I waited, giving her a chance to spit out something coherent. When, after a moment, she was still sputtering, I snapped, "T-t-today, Junior!"

"Edward's-bringing-someone-to-dinner-with-him!" she finally spilled in a volley of machinegun fire. At least, that's what it felt like. "A girl," she added, further clarifying, "His girlfriend."

_Well…fuck. Seems like Eva Braun will be joining us, as well._

I was surprised at how much it actually hurt. It wasn't as if Rose hadn't said as much on Thanksgiving, but I'd never fully believed it and, over time, had even managed to convince myself that if Alice were defending the nature of his relationship with the girl—as Rose had alleged—it couldn't be true. She would never condone or defend something like that, right? _Wrong._ Alice's confirmation was like being doused in the shower with ice water. I felt foolish, startled, and cold.

"I just thought you should know. I didn't want you to be blindsided. I'm sorry."

_How long have they been together? _Since Thanksgiving, at least, stupid. _How did they meet? What's her name? Is she prettier than I am? Does he love her? What does she have that I haven't got that made him able to commit to her and not to me?_—were only a few of the questions that I wanted to ask. Instead, I managed a very disinterested sounding, "Hmm? Oh, well…good for him. That's nice. Happy to hear it."

I could tell Alice expected more of a reaction from me, and wasn't finished discussing it but, finally catching a lucky break, my ringing phone stopped her before she could say more.

"Jake," I mouthed, holding up a finger and answering. "Hey! Can you hold for just a sec? 'Kay, be right back."

I muted the call, assuring her, "We can talk more in the morning, Alice." _Oh no, we just cannot._ "I'm going to be a while, and will probably go straight to bed when I'm done; I'm pretty beat."

She was skeptical, but stood to go, giving me a hug before she stepped into the hall and shut my door behind her. Un-muting my phone, I greeted Jake again. "Hiya there, mister. How're you?"

.

~∞Ѿ∞~

.

Asleep as soon as I got off the phone, I was tormented—and not always unpleasantly—by dreams of another man throughout the night. When I woke in the morning, there was a dull, aching throb between my thighs, and Gordian's knot had taken up residence in the pit of my stomach. I had a feeling the day was going to be hell.

Between my claims of being eager to get on the road, and my use of Jasper as a conversation-beard, I managed to avoid finishing my conversation with Alice, much to her disappointment. I would have felt guilty over misusing Jasper had he not paused as he followed Alice out the door, whispering in my ear, "Although I don't know what it is you're trying to avoid, sugar, I'm happy to oblige. You don't look as though you need any more on your plate, at the moment—but you know you're just putting off the inevitable, right?"

I nodded.

"So long as you know. Come along, then. I should be able to keep her busy for a bit longer." He stopped and, after a beat, slyly commented, "You look beat."

I didn't even have to fake it, falling asleep as soon as we hit I-5, and not waking up until we hit the first joltingly familiar bump of the Cullens' driveway.

Considering how deeply I slept, I awoke surprisingly alert. My head jack-in-the-boxed up from the bench-seat I'd fallen asleep on, and I leaned over, peering eagerly between the high-backed front seats as we pulled up to the house. A colony of bats swarmed in my stomach, the frenzied flapping of their leathery wings stirring up dichotomous emotions; I was both anxiously excited and earnestly apprehensive. Holding my breath and leaning to the side, I peered through the windshield as the house came into view, and was equal parts relieved and disappointed to see neither him nor his car in the drive.

I didn't have time, however, to dwell upon his absence, my feelings about it or to worry that someone would see all of it plain as day on my face because the second the car came to a halt, Esme was yanking my door open. She pulled me out of the vehicle and into her arms, scolding me softly the entire time.

"If you ever take off like that again, Isabella Marie Swan, I will… I don't know what I'll do, but you won't like it, young lady. Making us worry about you like that! Gah!"

Tears welled in my eyes. I couldn't understand how she could feel what she did for me when my own mother couldn't, and never would. That kind of compassion coming from the mother of adopted children shouldn't have surprised me, but it did because she had fought tooth and nail for her children (not to mention she had raised them from babies, in Alice and Edward's case, newborns). But me…I was just a stray her daughter brought home one day. That so natural a mother as Esme should be unable to have children, while Renee, lacking even the faintest bit of maternal instinct, could (and did…when she shouldn't have) was proof—in my mind, at least—that God didn't exist. Because, if he did, he was a heartless prick.

"I'm sorry," I whispered to her, my throat hoarse and raw from my unshed tears and unspoken thoughts.

"Okay, Es, that's enough," Carlisle said, patting his wife's back gently. "Let the poor girl go and give someone else a turn, eh?"

"Fine," she conceded, pulling away from me slightly, hands on my shoulders while warning, "This conversation isn't finished yet, missy." She squeezed me one more time before releasing me, Carlisle instantly taking her place.

"Welcome home, kid. We've missed you around here." He gave me a kiss on the cheek, causing me to blush just a bit, and everyone else to laugh.

"Oh, shut up!" I huffed, crossing my arms over my chest and scowling my fiercest scowl, but affecting no one. _What? He was pretty fucking hot for his age; they all knew it, too._

"Well, I'd love to stay, but I've got to run to the hospital for a bit. I'll be back in plenty of time for dinner, though, and we'll catch up then. We fully expect to hear everything you've been up to since you've been gone," Carlisle warned. Kissing his wife and daughter on the temple and cheek, in that order, and patting Jasper on the back, he headed off to the garage to get his car and leave.

"Okay, why don't you kids go throw your bags upstairs in your rooms? I'll have the car key for you when you come back down; I'm sure you're eager to get to Charlie's. I know he can't wait to see you, so off with you now," she shooed us off.

Alice and Jasper grabbed their bags out of the back of Alice's LX, and started for the house, but I just stood there fidgeting. "What are you doing just standing there, hun? Aren't you going to put your stuff in your room?"

"Um, well…what room am I staying in?"

She rolled her eyes at me, saying, before heading inside, "In _your_ room, silly."

It was such a relief to hear her say it…_in your room. _Just three little words, and all my fears of coming home to finding I'd been left behind abated. I allowed myself one moment to bask in the warmth she'd brought me, and then grabbed my bag, rushing inside and upstairs to _my_ room which was, I was delighted to find, exactly as I remembered, right down to the random items in the nightstand drawers. I smiled, ridiculously happy that after everything, I still had a place in the Cullen family. Sometimes you_ could_ go home again. _Suck on that, Thomas Wolfe!_

.

~∞Ѿ∞~

.

Charlie didn't bother disguising how much he'd missed me, which was so, so…_not_ Charlie. Maybe he was getting sentimental in his old age, because hugging—especially over the top hugging in view of the…well, anyone—was something he didn't do. At least, not once I got boobs, we didn't.

We caught up over a hastily thrown together lunch that I whipped up from his surprisingly well-stocked pantry…_raises eyebrows like, WTF, mates?_...before settling into the living room with the television turned on low—some fishing show on. I honestly didn't know how anyone could watch that shit. It definitely wasn't at the top of the list of shows I found entertaining, but to each their own, I supposed.

When we finally exhausted all other topics of conversation, Charlie began to effusively gush about Jake, expounding upon his qualities and suitability as my beau, blah, blah, blah, blah! I excused myself to the bathroom when I couldn't take it anymore. It was either that or tell him that if he liked Jake so damn much he could date him himself, and I didn't think that would go over so well. I needed to come up with something that would distract him from continuing to wax poetic about all the virtues of the _god-like_ Jake…_oh my, gawd! He's just so dreamy_…but we'd already discussed fishing and sports, so I was shit out of engaging topics.

Who would have thought that my father's staid, never-contained-anything-stronger-than-aspirin bathroom would provide me with all the fodder I needed to keep my father far away from the subject of relationships for at least the rest of our visit, if not longer. _And I was really hoping for longer._

"Hey, Dad?" I called on my way back to the front room. "You don't have any other news to tell me, do you? You don't have _anything _new to report since I saw you last?"

His mustache twitched, but his face was carefully blank as he said, "No, not that I can think of, why?" _Why couldn't I have inherited that trait—the ability to _not_ wear my heart on my sleeve on my face—from him?_ _Fuck genetics._

"I don't know, I just…well, I just saw what _looked_ an awful lot like a bra in the bathroom. It's cool, though. I understand. I wouldn't want to admit to my daughter that I was a cross-dresser, either, but I want you to know that I don't think any less of you for it. In fact, now I know what to get you for your birthday and Christmas this year. I can only buy so many fishing poles, tackle boxes, and lures before they start looking a little impersonal, y'know? This opens up so many avenues for me."

Charlie blushed so intense a shade of red, I wouldn't have believed it was real had I not worn the same shade a time or two myself—although, I had to say, it looked better on him—but I somehow managed to keep a straight face. However, I lost it entirely, breaking into loud, hysterical laughter when he sputtered, "Isabella Marie Swan! What in the…? Have you lost your fool mind? I can only assume you came up with these ideas in New York! I'm not a que…I am _not_ a…_cross-dresser_!" He said it in a harsh hiss, as if just speaking it, had the power to invoke it. Pausing, to either recover or gather his strength, he sucked in a deep breath and then pushed out in a rush of air and words. "I'msortaseeingsomeone…a woman. You don't know her. It's new."

Still laughing, I asked, "I'm sorry, come again? I didn't quite catch that."

"I'm-sorta-seeing-someone."

"Wait, what?" I asked again, pointing at my ear and shaking my head. "You're gonna have to speak up, old man. Now, what was that?"

"Dammit, Isabella! You know damn good and well what I said. I am sort of seeing someone. A woman. I said it, happy now?"

"Sort of?" I snorted. "Considering her bra's on your bathroom floor, I'm thinking you're doing more than just _sort of_ seeing her, old man. I trust you kids are being safe? Children are an awfully big responsibility."

Shooting me his patented 'Scary Police Chief, Fear Me' scowl, his flush deepened, surpassing my record for darkest shade of red ever, rendering the expression ineffectual. "I'm still your father, young lady, you could show a little respect…and Sue doesn't think I'm that old," he grumbled, my guffaws so loud that I nearly missed the last bit and, as priceless as it was, I almost wished I had.

My ribs were protesting all the violent laugh-turbulence, but I couldn't stop. Every time I started to sober up, I would hear him again—Sue_ doesn't think I'm that old_—and yield to the absurdity once again. It wasn't even that funny; I blamed exhaustion and my elation over being home for my giddiness.

The hilarity eventually passing, Charlie and I sat side by side in companionable silence…mostly. It was broken every now and again by an occasional long-suffering grunt from him, and an odd giggle here and there from me. Several minutes elapsed this way, then straight out of nowhere, Charlie informs me quietly, and with the utmost seriousness, "You know, Bells…abortion _is_ legal…in your case, it'd just be extremely late-term."

My jaw hit the floor. _A sense of humor? I didn't know he had it in him._ Initially rendered mute from shock, when I finally found my voice, the ringing phone prevented any response and Charlie walked off to answer it, stroking his mustache as he attempted to hide his satisfied smirk. I might not know his ladylove, but I already liked her. I wanted to ask more about her, but all good things must end.

It was dispatch on the phone, needing Charlie to come in early—some domestic dispute that the deputy on duty needed back up on—and our little reunion was forced to a premature conclusion. With a hug and a promise not to be such a stranger, I slipped out the front door. I was two hours ahead of schedule and wanted to surprise Jake, but remembered I didn't know where he lived, so I called him from the car to get directions.

.

~∞Ѿ∞~

.

It was obvious when he answered the door that Billy Black was still not entirely used to his wheelchair, not that I could blame him. He'd barely been in it for a month, not even a drop in the bucket after a lifetime of walking. I smiled at him and shook his hand as I introduced myself, peering over his shoulder in search of Jake because I really didn't know what to say to this man that was as familiar as he was strange and Jake's presence would take the pressure off of me.

"Hiya…Billy?" I inquired with narrowed eyes as if trying to cipher his identity. _Who the fuck else could he be, dumbass? _I felt as if I should remember him, but I didn't. "I'm Bella," I stated stupidly with an awkward little wave.

"I know who you are! You look just like your mother." Seeing me stiffen, he quickly added, "But there's just as much Charlie there, too. Now come here and give me a hug; family doesn't shake hands."

_Okay, Tommy Callahan. Can I get you a 'wingy', too? _I thought snarkily, but obediently bent down and hugged him rigidly.

"Hey, you making moves on my lady, old man?" I heard Jake ask from just past his father. Billy released me, and I straightened up, a genuine smile lighting my face when I saw him.

"Hey there, stranger! Long time no see."

"Hey there, yourself. Miss me?"

"Not really," I answered cheekily.

"Way to kill my ego, Bells." _Oh, we're joking about it now?_

"Well, quit fishing for compliments, you know I did." It flowed easily off my tongue, and I was surprised to find I actually meant it. "So, you boys gonna invite me in or make me stand on the porch all day?"

"Oh, sorry! By all means, come in, come in," Billy invited, maneuvering himself out of the doorway.

Jake stepped forward, pulling me close and bending to kiss me as I stepped through the door only, at the last minute, I turned my head so he kissed my cheek instead. Slipping out of his grasp, I hissed under my breath, "Jake! Not in front of your father!"

"Bella…" he started, but took one look at my face, and opted not to push his luck. "Fine."

He led me to the living room, where we sat and chatted with Billy. He was actually a pretty funny guy, and to retain his sense of humor after what he'd gone through was…impressive. I didn't think I could do the same; I couldn't keep it after getting fucked over by a guy, so... Eventually, Billy claimed to be in need of a nap, but I saw through the ruse. It was obvious he was purposely making himself scarce; he had the subtlety of a sledgehammer.

"I'm bushed. I'm gonna go lay down for a bit, let you kids catch up." He winked, and then wheeled himself carefully out of the living room and down the hall.

I blushed, mumbling, "Night. It was nice to meet you…again."

"I'm sure I'll be seeing you later, Bella. You tell me if that boy of mine isn't treating you right."

"Yes, sir."

We were quiet as he rolled the hall, the uneasiness between us ratcheting up with each rotation of the chairs tires. It was as if, after only a few weeks apart, we didn't know how to behave around one another without a buffer, and our silence dragged on long after Billy's door closed behind him. My tolerance running out, I teasingly observed, "Well, I see where you get your subtlety from."

Jake made this yelp-like noise that was half-snort/half-laugh and—his eyes all big and face mortified—he clamped a hand over his mouth as if in denial that the less than manly sound had come out of it. I chuckled, but withheld from commenting because one, I wasn't exactly a social savant myself; and two, I lived in a glass house. Glazing was expensive.

Hiding his embarrassment behind misdirection, he announced, "Well, I guess I should give you the grand tour. It's not much, but…it's home. Come on."

He pulled me to my feet, showing me around the first floor, "Living room…kitchen…dining room…Billy's room and the bathroom are down the hall," pointing a finger before leading me upstairs, the entire time holding my hand. "Rachel's and Rebecca's rooms are over there…the bathroom is over there and…" opening the door, "my room."

Gesturing for me to enter, he followed, closing the door behind us and finally releasing my hand. I turned in a circle, taking in the small space. "So…this is your room." The walls were practically papered with posters of scantily clad girls. "Nice, um…art," I teased.

"What?" Jake shrugged his shoulders. "I'm a guy."

I laughed and went to the window to peer down at the yard below. My hips were gripped by his big hands seconds before his body pressed against mine, startling a gasp from my lips. I tensed. "How 'bout that kiss now?" he whispered, his breath warm against my skin.

My head tilted obligingly, letting him nuzzle the crook of my neck, and then turned in his arms so he could claim the kiss I'd denied him earlier. Still, I couldn't relax, and when he made to deepen it, starting to walk us toward the bed, I broke away, snipping, "Jake, no! Not with your father downstairs."

"He doesn't care," Jake countered, pressing open-mouthed kisses to any patch of skin he could access, but I refused to yield. "Come on, Bella! I haven't seen you in like a month and a half—I've missed you; lemme show you how much, baby."

I pulled out of his arms with a jerk and angrily stalked towards the door. "Jesus, Jake! I said no. I'm seriously starting to question what you missed more: me or the sex."

Jake rounded on me angrily, cutting off my escape and, if I'm honest, frightening me some. "What the fuck, Bells? Seriously? Of course I missed _you_! I can't believe you would even ask that. What the fuck is your problem?"

I flinched at his vehemence, but shakily held my ground. "Nothing! You just don't seem to get that I don't want to have sex in your father's house…while he's home. He knew me when I was little, and he's friends with my father! I'm not exactly comfortable with him knowing about our sex life, you insensitive prick!" I hissed, as we circled each other.

"It's not like our fathers don't know that we're having sex, Bella."

"That's not the fucking point, Jake!" I looked at the digital alarm clock next to his bed, grateful that I had an excuse to bail on our rapidly escalating fight, but still wondering where the time went. "I have to go; I told Esme I'd help her with dinner."

"Oh, that's great! Just run off to the Cullens' then, Bella, that'll solve everything. Is _Edward_ there?" he snarled.

"I don't fucking know! What the hell does he have to do with anything?"

"Everything! Isn't he why you won't let me make love to you?"

"No, you jackass, and quit dragging him into things. He has nothing to do with us. I'm not sure why you're acting so jealous and threatened…" _Liar. You know exactly why._ "…but it's not attractive. Get. Over it. What the fuck do I have to do…? Would coming with me make you happy?"

I don't know why I asked—I didn't want him there, not really—but the words were out, hanging in the air between us, and couldn't be taken back.

"Yeah, it would," Jake confessed.

"Fine. Dinner's at seven; don't be late. I'll see you there," I snapped back, brushing past him en route to the door, but just as I reached for the knob, Jakes hand landed heavy on my shoulder, spinning me around and pushing me back against it.

He pinned me bodily in place and covered my lips with his, claiming me with a rough kiss that roused my anger and my lust, companionable as the emotions were. My arms twined themselves around his neck, and my mouth returned his kiss, giving just as rough as they got. Palming my ass, he squeezed a cheek before sliding halfway down my thigh. Fingers digging into my flesh, he yanked my leg up, hooking it over his hip so suddenly that I sucked in a sharp, shocked breath.

When he bent his knees, his hardness meeting my heat, I let out a soft moan and tossed my head back, only vaguely aware of the dull thud as it hit the door. I allowed myself to revel in the sensations coursing through my body, justifying it with the thought that maybe it was just what I needed to ease my anxiety about dinner. Intoxicated by unrestrained lust and mindless desire, I found myself, for the first time ever with Jake at the helm, able to let go…_well, mostly_.

My reunion with Edward looming ominously over me, I couldn't stop the comparisons with Jake, but I found it easier to ignore their differences, to forget about the fact that the wrong mans hands were touching me, and I tightened my arms around his neck, lifting my other leg to wrap around him and draw us closer together. Jake assisted my efforts, and my ankles were soon locked together behind his back. He pushed our pelvises together, rubbing against me just right.

"Oh! Oh – right there. Yesssss! Pleasepleaseplease, don't stop," I gasped—somehow retaining just enough thought to be mindful of my volume—as I swiveled my hips against him, creating just the right amount of friction.

"Oh fuck! It's been too long, baby. You're g-gonna make me come if you keep that up. Tell me you're close! Please come…fuck you feel so fucking good…I wanna make you feel good, too."

Attacking my neck, Jake alternatively grinding and pulsing, and my body started to quiver as I edged along the abyss.

"So…close! Pleeeee-ase!" Eyes clenched shut, legs tightening around him, and hips bucking erratically against him completely out of my control, I strained to get mine before he reached his.

Jake latched onto my neck with his teeth, sucking and biting, causing indecipherable gibberish to spill from lips and sending delicious shivers throughout my body; it was just the stimulus needed. My orgasm bearing down on me, everything just fell away, and I succumbed to the waves of energy. When it was over, I felt boneless, barely managing to keep my arms and legs in place as Jake thrust against me a few more times, and then shuddered through his climax.

Spent, he collapsed against me, pressing me hard into the unforgiving door as his knees trembled and then gave way. We slid down it, collapsing in a heap on the floor where we remained while we caught our breath.

"Fuck!" Jake sighed, moving his sweaty forehead to rest against mine. "I don't remember dry-humping being that good when I was in high school."

"Mmmm," I hummed noncommittally into his damp neck, too lethargic and satiated to say more. After a moment, I found the will to lift my face and quip, "Told you tons of fun could be had with your clothes on."

.

~∞Ѿ∞~

.

**Chapter Songs (In Order of Appearance):  
**_Just Dropped In (To See What Condition My Condition Was In)_, written by Mickey Newbury and, starting with Jerry Lee Lewis, performed by countless artists; I happen to like the Willie Nelson version (don't ask)  
_The Sidestep, _performed by Charles Durning in _The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas  
Time_, Pink Floyd_  
_

**Notes:  
**1. "It was nice to know that sometimes you could go home again. _Suck on that, Thomas Wolfe!"_—Thomas Wolfe wrote the novel, _You Can't Go Home Again_  
2. "…_WTF, mates?_—_End of Ze World,_ fuckfunny animated internet video. I could seriously watch it for hours and never stop laughing.  
3. _"Keep telling yourself that, Gertrude."_—Reference to the line _'The lady doth protest too much, methinks.'_ -Said by Queen Gertrude in Act III, Scent II of Hamlet by William Shakespeare  
4. "That's not happiness to see me, love."—line from the movie _A Perfect Murder._

**Rec's:  
**_The Art Teacher_ by Spanglemaker9  
_Type O Negative_ by quothme  
_The Plan _by QuantumFizzX  
_Through the Oak Door_ by struckatthesky  
_Quarterback Rush_ by musegirl


	9. Chapter 9 Goodbye to You

**Disclaimer: **S. Meyer owns all recognizable characters, plots, etc. Only original content, characters, etc. belongs to author. No copyright infringement intended. Any errors contained herein, are expressly the fault of the authors idiocy, and not her beta.

**Word Count:** 10,037

**A/N: I apologize in advance for the length of this note. Thank you's at the top, but important info in the latter half.**

I can't express enough my appreciation to V for betaing, and Char for helping me get it right an keeping me on track, but I will never stop trying.

Sorry for the lateness. My new job and RL are just kicking my ass right now, so I get little to no time to write. I didn't manage to reply to reviews last time around, but I assumed you'd rather have me writing. Please know that I read every single one, and they really kept me motivated when I just wanted to say fuck it. I cannot thank you all enough.

Enjoy.

* * *

**Chapter 9—Goodbye to You**

**

* * *

**

…_I've been searchin' deep down in my soul  
Words that I'm hearin' are starting to get old  
It feels like I'm startin' all over again_…

…_I still get lost in your eyes  
And it seems that I can't live a day without you  
Closin' my eyes and you chase my thoughts away  
To a place where I am blinded by the light  
But it's not right, ahh_…

…_Goodbye to you  
Goodbye to everything I thought I knew  
You were the one I loved  
The one thing that I tried to hold onto_…

…_And when the stars fall I will lie awake  
You're my shooting star_

Michelle Branch

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**~∞Ѿ∞~**

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I skipped through the front door of the Cullens', announcing, "I'm back! Sorry I'm late. Let me jump in the shower real quick, and I'll be right down to help with dinner."

"Okay, dear! Take your time," Esme called from the kitchen as I pranced up the stairs feeling lighter than I had in days. I hopped in the shower, pondering my newfound levity.

My hair wrapped in a towel and another secured around my body, I stepped into my room, humming to myself as I walked straight to the bureau opposite the foot of my bed to grab the clothes I'd packed specifically for dinner; I wanted to look good, but not like I was trying—_effortlessly hot_. Turning to head back to the bathroom, my eyes flicked to the mirror above the bureau…and I screamed. _Holy fuck!_

I tossed my clothes towards the bed, hoping to thwart any planned attack and buy myself a little time, and then ran for the door. It wasn't until after I had yanked the door open and prepared to run down the hallway that I heard the laughter of my uninvited guests and finally processed just who the fuck was in my room…and the fact that my towel had fallen at some point during my brief but panicked flight.

And, my run of luck continuing, at that exact moment, Emmett strode down the hall, passing my room. "Hey, B-dizzle, is Rosie with—you aren't wearing any clothes. Huh? Whaddya know…the blush does go all the way down. Anyway, nice rack and all, but you seen Rose?"

I froze and then, my face bursting into flame and thawing almost instantly, I screeched unintelligibly and slammed the door in his face. Collapsing back against the closed door—the cool wood doing nothing to ease the heat of degradation currently covering my body in red—I covered my bits and pieces as best as I could with splayed hands and twisted arms.

"Jesus-fucking-Christ, why me?" I moaned, because seriously, what had I done in life to deserve that kind of epic embarrassment? I was like a humiliation magnet! _Eh, at least I had that going for me._

One arm still wrapped around my chest while the hand of the other attempted to cover my sex, I edged my way over to where my towel lay on the floor and picked it up. When it was secured around me once again, I gathered my clothes and skulked back to the cavernous bathroom, pointing at the two hyenas rolling around on my bed as I went and growling, "I hate you both. I hope you die in a fire. Bitches."

They only laughed harder.

I slammed the door behind me and splashed some water on my face to cool my cheeks, not emerging again until I was fully dressed. Rose and Alice had managed to compose themselves, and were sitting on the bed chatting amiably when I stepped back into the room. Idiot that I was, I assumed this meant they were going to let the incident go, but of course they didn't. They never could waste an opportunity to chuckle at my expense. _Yuck it up, motherfuckers._ Why in the hell was I friends with them, again?

"Nice striptease, babe," Rose remarked offhandedly, examining her cuticles. "Em gave you a nine point five. Said he would have scored you higher, but I was here."

_And why hadn't I learned by now to lock the door when I showered?_

"Mmmph," I grunted in derision. "What do you two creepers want?"

"We thought we'd come see if you needed any help getting ready, but you clearly have it under control," Ali stated, eyeing my sweater and jeans combo.

"Yup, under control," I agreed, and then my mouth overrode my ass, confessing, "I, um…invited Jake to come."

"Ugh! Why did I agree to come to this shindig?" Rose questioned. "I already didn't want to spend more time with Doucheward and Doctor Sunshine—I had just about enough of them over Christmas and New Year's—but now, on top of it, I have to deal with the mutt, too? You're lucky I love you, Bella. If it was for anyone else, I'd bail."

"You're such a martyr, Rose," I intoned, only half-listening.

"Rosalie!" Alice scolded. "What did I say about being such a bitch?"

"Wait, she spent Christmas here?" I demanded thoughtlessly, her words having just registered. Not having had intended to say it aloud, I squirmed under the scrutiny as blonde and black both snapped my direction.

I rapidly backpedaled, feigning disinterest. "Not that I care, just surprised, I guess. No one other than Jasper, Rose or me has ever spent Christmas here, that's all." I grabbed my make-up and curling iron out of my bag on the bureau. "I couldn't care less," I reiterated with a shrug of my shoulders as I headed back to the bath-cave to finish getting ready, leaving the door open this time in order to chat.

Alice and Rose were whispering furiously back and forth, but couldn't make out what they were saying, which was just fine with me. I needed a moment to get my shit together before I could face them. Outwardly, I was all casual indifference—at least, I hoped I was—but inwardly, I was freaking out. I couldn't believe that no one had told me that Edward's new…hell, his only girlfriend—ever—had spent Christmas with them. It's possible it was none of my business, but I still felt betrayed, and also incredibly angry. Realizing that I needed my blow dryer, I gritted my teeth and walked back into my room.

"Okay, okay, okay! Shutting up." Rose raised her hands in surrender. "I think I'll go see what that boy of mine wanted. Bella's boobs and Brazilian distracted him, and he completely forgot why he wanted me. You're lookin' pretty hot with the clothes on, too. You know what they say, looking good is the best revenge, but reminding them how desirable you are? Priceless." Her eyes dropped, briefly settling somewhere around my collarbone before lifting back to mine.

With a wink, she walked out of the room, calling over her shoulder, "See you downstairs, ladies." The door closed behind with a resounding click.

_I wasn't…_

Not at all liking, nor fully understanding, her insinuations—what the fuck had been up with her dropped eyes and smirk?—I turned to Alice.

"I'm not…" I began, staring at her with exasperation.

"Hey – Rose said it, not me. I'm gonna go help Mom set the table…or something while you finish getting ready."

"Do I really look like I'm trying too hard? I mean, it's just a sweater and jeans. It's…casual." Casual as the ensemble might have been, I knew it was flattering. _Like I said, I was going for casually hot._

The dark, straight-leg jeans made my ass look phenomenal and my legs much longer than they actually were. I'd paired them with a fitted-but-not-clingy, three-quarter-length-sleeved sweater in black. It had an asymmetrical neckline that hugged my neck tightly, the fabric just licking up the column on one side, and then slashing down at a sharp angle toward the opposite shoulder, exposing the whole of that side of my neck and the curve as it sloped into my shoulder, yet only revealing a hint of the actual joint.

"No, you look really good, but…" she smirked, "unless you want to set off the boys' big brother instincts, and have the three of them kick Jake's ass, you might want to do something about your new, um—" she tapped the side of her neck, slightly to the front of it while looking at mine.

"What?" I asked in confusion, to which Alice replied with a twirl of her fingers, looking at the bureau mirror behind me.

I turned and peered at my neck, groaning almost instantly at the dark, bruised mark peeking out of the high side of my sweater. _How in the hell had I missed…? _The towel. When I'd wrapped my hair up on top of my head, the ends of it had come loose, flopping down to cover my neck and shoulder. Fuck. _Fucking Jake! _

Facing Alice again, eyebrows raised and about to panic, I asked, "Makeup?"

"Mmmm," she hummed, and then shook her head. "Black cashmere? No, makeup would just rub off on it, making it even more obvious. Just adjust the front of your sweater to cover it, and be careful not to tug it down. "

"Thanks," I said, turning back to the mirror and adjusting the neck of my sweater.

"Welcome."

"So, his _girlfriend_," I nearly choked on the word, "spent Christmas with fam'? That's a first. Must be pretty serious, huh?" I refused to make eye contact with her, not if I was going to keep up my façade of nonchalance, and busied myself with my sweater. With the way Alice was eyeballing me, however, I wasn't fooling her.

"I don't know how serious they are," she hedged. "It was kind of my idea, to be honest. It's just that she doesn't really know many people here. She's from California, which is where she did her undergrad, and since she moved here, she hasn't taken time to meet many people, focusing on med school instead. I felt horrible for her—no one should be alone for the holidays—so I invited her."

"Mmmm. That was nice of you." I didn't necessarily like it, but it really was kind of her. _That's Alice for ya, always bringing home strays. I should know._ "So, do you guys hang out much other than at _family_ functions?" I questioned, wrinkling my nose because I didn't like the how it sounded, as if she were one of the family. _Interloper. _Way to play it smooth, Bella.

"Not so much one-on-one, but she's invited whenever Edward is; I spent a fair bit of time with them when Rose and I weren't talking. For a long time after you left, Edward wasn't really around—he kind of went into hiding, avoiding us like the plague—but after Thanksgiving, he started making a real effort to participate in life. He really had me worried, and I haven't wanted to him to go back into hiding, so I've tried to be supportive." She paused, as if she were carefully choosing her next words.

"I know it has to be awkward for you. I want you to know, though, that I'm not best friends with her or anything, but we do get along; she's nice, actually. And I haven't kept her a secret from you, I've mentioned her to you a few times—Charlotte?" I 'hmmed' in acknowledgment, wanting her to go on, while I flipped through remembered snippets of previous conversations, trying to recall hearing her mentioned. "I just thought you should know."

I nodded, trying to process everything as Alice looked at her watch. "Okay. Well, I'm out. We can talk more later on, if you want. I'll see you downstairs." She headed out, hesitating with her hand on the doorknob, she turned slightly, saying softly, "It's nice to have you home; things weren't the same without you. I'm happy you're staying with me."

"Thanks, Ali. I'm happy to be home, too." _I think_, I added to myself.

.

~∞Ѿ∞~

.

Dinner was nearly ready, Jake had arrived with a bottle of wine about ten minutes earlier, but Edward and his guest…_his _girlfriend,_ say it, Bella_…had yet to arrive, and I was so on edge, anxiously anticipating their arrival, that I couldn't quite focus on the conversation taking place around me. Gathered in the sitting room, Jasper and Emmett were getting to know Jake while Rose and Alice chattered on about something or other. Like a marble statue, perched on the edge of my chair barely breathing, I was completely oblivious to it all, all of my attention focused outside of the house—ears straining for the crunch of gravel, and eyes attempting to see through the wall between the front door and me. When Esme came in, calling us to the table, I was only vaguely aware of it.

"Your brother's not here yet, but I don't want to hold dinner up on his account. There's no telling when he'll be here if he was called in to the hospital, so why don't you all come to the dining room and we'll get started!" Esme announced with a happy clap of her hands.

Not ready to sit yet, I excused myself to the washroom while everyone else began to meander to the dining room. I just needed a minute to compose myself, still warring with the disappointment and relief that I'd felt upon arriving earlier that morning. Locking myself inside the downstairs bathroom, nestled between the stairs to the basement and the ones for upstairs, I splashed my face with water. Several deep breaths later, I patted my face and hands dry before stepping into the hall…

"Edward?" I gasped.

…and straight into the chest of the very man whose presence—or lack thereof—had sent me there in the first place. Every bit of composer I'd gained, fled. I was unprepared for that, for him—so unexpectedly like that.

…_there is this place inside where all the good things die_…

"Isabella," he grimaced, as if saying my name caused him physical pain.

…_I hate the way I am around you, I'm so nervous and weird_…

"How've you been?" I inquired, cringing over both the banality of my question and the nervous pitch of my voice.

"Bella, are you planning on joining us for dinner any time soon?" Jake's angry sounding voice called from the other end of the hall, adding to the already tense vibe.

…_sometimes I feel like I'm breathing underwater_…

No longer trapped by his gaze, I was suddenly aware of the fact that Edward's hands were still gripping my upper arms from when he'd grabbed me, steadying me after running into him. I stared at where we connected, my eyes darting back and forth between his hands, the heat of which I could feel through my sweater, burning into my skin.

"Bella?" Jake called again, annoyance creeping in to his voice. "Are you coming?"

I turned my head toward him, his scowling expression making me feel guilty although I'd done nothing wrong. _He didn't know that the thought of dragging Edward into the bathroom to have my way with him had briefly flittered through my mind. Blame Shorty, not me. _

"Yeah," I answered. "Coming."

The sound of my voice must have snapped him out of whatever daze he was in, because Edward promptly pushed me away from him, our bodies having been so close they were almost touching, and released me so abruptly that tears sprang up in my eyes. _Stupid, stupid girl!_

"Sorry," he muttered, dragging one hand through his hair.

"No, I'm sorry," I countered, hoping the bitterness would mask the pain in my voice. I didn't want him knowing how he affected me still, but I knew hopes would be in vain, as usual. Tilting his head sharply, he peered at me with shrewd eyes, but I didn't give him the chance to speak. I stepped around him and rushed down the hall.

As soon as I was within arms' distance of Jake, he reached out, gripping my arm almost painfully, before dragging me through the doorway of the den. I glanced over my shoulder at Edward to see him staring at Jake's hand on me, his own hands clenched tightly. He looked as if he were about to follow us, but I frantically shook my head at him—I had no doubt that it would come to blows if he did—and with reluctance, he did as I asked, unclenching his hands and staring after me helplessly. My heart clenched, against my will, and I felt confused—all topsy-turvy, upside-down and turned around.

I gave myself a brief, but very stern talking-to, telling myself it was all an act, that the look in his eyes when he first saw me—the one that looked so much like longing—was nothing more than me projecting, that I was imagining what I wanted to see. After all, Edward had given me up years ago when he'd decided to fuck Tanya behind my back, _and_ he'd moved on—he had a _girlfriend _now—and so had I. Reminded of Jake, I turned my attention back to him; he was already in the middle of speaking to me.

"…the fuck was that, Bella? He's here for two seconds before he has his hands on you and you're already falling all over him! I'd hate to think what would have happened had I not come looking for you."

_Excuse me?_

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

"Actually, I was hoping I hadn't." I jerked my arm away from him, beyond enraged. If he thought I was going to just stand there and take that from him, he had another thing coming. "You need to get control of yourself, and check your jealousy at the door. Now. Before you do or say something that you'll regret. There was nothing going on between Edward and me.

"Not that I owe you an explanation, but I ran into him when I was coming out of the bathroom. And he was touching me to keep me from falling, that's all. So, whatever you imagined was happening was just that—you imagining things. I'm going to go enjoy my welcome home dinner now. You're welcome to come, or you can just leave and I'll see you tomorrow—it's up to you—but if you decide to stay, you'd better lose the attitude."

I turned to leave the den, but paused in the doorway and looked over my shoulder. "Oh, and if you ever grab me like that again…my father owns guns and he's the police chief. He may _like _you an awful lot, but he _loves_ me." And with that, I walked out, never looking back— not to see if Jake was following, and most definitely not to see if Edward was still in the hall.

I had told myself that seeing him again would be nothing—it had been nearly a year since I'd seen him, after all—because he was nothing to me now. Nothing. _Keep telling yourself that, Gertrude._

…_you treat me like I am on fire, like I'm something to eat_…

Upon seeing his face though…I'd known myself to be a liar. _Liar, liar, pants on fire._ All of the feelings I thought I'd put to rest the past November had come flooding back, and they couldn't have come at a worse time. Walking into the dining room to take my seat at the table, I schooled my face to impassivity—I could ruminate on my startling revelation later—and took in the faces of the people I loved, happy smiles upon them over having me home. Jacob took his seat between Alice and me, and a moment later, Edward took his…directly across from me.

Although everyone's eyes were on me, the only ones that mattered were his—hot on my skin and causing a rush of desire to surge through me that was still so strong after all this time it stole my breath away. I carefully avoided looking at him, attempting to hide behind casual conversation with anyone else at the table, but I was talking too much, too fast, and my voice was too high.

_How? Howhowhow_! How was it possible that he continued to have that kind of effect on me? The tingling, electric pulse just from being in his vicinity—that I had never felt with anyone else—was distracting, and that was putting it mildly. Jake's presence at my side, rather than being the comfort I'd hoped it would be, was like a lead blanket, heavy and numbing, and blocking anything from getting through to that side of my body. It irrationally angered me but, even though I knew it was wrong for me to feel that way—I had moved on; I was with Jake now, and Edward was seeing someone, too. Speaking of which, where was she?—I couldn't help it.

I'd told myself over and over that I could do it—see Edward again and be okay—but I knew that there was no way I could have faced him _and _her alone. Whether he knew I, too, had moved on, I wasn't sure, but when Alice had told me about him having done so _and_ that she was coming with him, I had nearly panicked and invited Jake to dinner that night; I hadn't wanted to look like the pathetic singleton. I hadn't done so then, but I'd grown tired of fighting with him constantly over something that wasn't even an issue and, after enduring yet another one of his fits over Edward, I'd felt compelled to extend an olive branch.

There was the added benefit of killing two birds with one stone: making certain that Edward knew, in no uncertain terms, that I'd moved on as well, and placating Jake by showing him that Edward didn't want me. Had I known Edward would be alone, however, I would have never asked Jake to accompany me. Jake or no Jake, dinner still would have been awkward and uncomfortable, but there was a buzzing sort of coiled tension coming from him that, judging from the stilted conversation and overly mannered behavior of the normally convivial Cullen clan, was hampering the celebration.

No one knew what to say to him, and his sharp, monosyllabic answers weren't helping to encourage conversation. His behavior was just the icing on the cake, angry as I already was with him over his earlier accusations and unnecessary roughness, as well as his general attitude since his return to Washington; we were going to have to have serious words tomorrow because I wasn't going to tolerate much more of it.

Gone was the fun-loving, considerate guy I'd met in New York, he'd become this entirely different person, and I wasn't so sure I liked him. He seemed so…combative since he'd arrived, and while I could understand his dislike of Edward, he was taking it too far. I mean, he couldn't even be civil to Carlisle and Esme, and Carlisle was the doctor who'd saved his father's life, not to mention his distrust in me was completely…well, that was probably justified.

I didn't exactly have the best track record when it came to Edward. I mean, come on! On our first date—for all intents and purposes, the first time we met (playing together as toddlers notwithstanding, since I didn't remember)—I fucked Edward in the bathroom of the bar we'd stopped at for drinks! Still, I was frustrated with Jake's behavior, and simultaneously choking and burning under the combined scrutiny of him and Edward—in that order. I was almost relieved when Edward's…_swallowing down the lump in my throat_…girlfriend showed up shortly after we began to eat. _Almost._

The doorbell rang, and looks were exchanged all around, as if to say, 'who could it be.' Esme placed her napkin down on the table beside her plate, her brow creased as she answered the unspoken question hovering in the air, stating, "We weren't expecting anyone…that I know of."

We all hummed our agreement as she started to rise, but Edward beat her to it, jumping up and calling out, "I'll get it! No reason for you to get up, Mom."

He was obviously eager to escape the tension—and I was admittedly jealous, wanting to do the same. _Lucky bastard. _Situated as it was, the dining room afforded all the diners a clear view of the entryway, and we all watched expectantly, eager to see who was at the door. I looked away for a moment, only to have my head snap back instantly as if on a spring upon hearing Edward ask in a disbelieving, shocked tone, "Charlotte? What are you doing here?"

"That's not happiness to see me, love," she returned, flippantly. _Bitch, that's my line._

My eyes made it back to the entryway just in time to see a blonde girl, er, woman…_whatever_...wrap her arms around Edward, pulling him down to her for a kiss. Even from where I sat at the dinner table I could see the rigidity of his body, but it didn't keep me from wondering if Edward knew all along that she would be showing up, and that was why he had been so adamant about getting the door.

Maybe I was seeing things that weren't really there, but either way, I wished I hadn't looked. I had more than my fair share of memories of Edward sucking face with blondes…_and redheads, and brunettes, etc…_.in front of me, and I felt a pang, their lips pressing together stirring up memories of my last day in Forks before I fled to New York.

"I'm not too late, am I? My surgery didn't take nearly as long as I thought it would," she said loud enough for us to hear her in the dining room. I didn't want to look any longer, but I couldn't tear my eyes away, watching in morbid fascination as she stepped around him, lacing her fingers with his and leading him toward the dining room.

…_you make me hate what I see when I see me_…

I'd always known that I wasn't enough for Edward. I mean, it had never made sense—him wanting me—and now I knew why. I had been nothing more than a distraction, a placeholder, a passing fancy that he'd been bound to grow bored with eventually. Surveying the girl who had replaced me in Edward's life—the girl who had surpassed me and been given more of him than I ever had—I felt inferior in every way possible. It suddenly occurred to me that my name was a cruel joke, the moniker cursing me with the pre-destiny of never living up to it. _Beautiful swan, my ass!_

…_you make me feel like a whore_…

At best, I was cute, but she…she was gorgeous—stunning actually. Blonde, tall, curvy yet trim figure, and great tits—although, I had my doubts that they were real…_you know they're real, you jealous whore_. She was the antithesis of me, and exactly the type of girl Edward had always seemed to prefer. On top of it all, she was smart…_hello, med school_…shared Edward's interests and, I didn't know her current financial status, but if she didn't already hold her own against Edward financially (and from her clothes it was clear she did), she would once she became a full-fledged doctor.

At least I no longer had to wonder what she had that I didn't: everything…literally, and in more ways than one. She had the boy that I loved…_why lie to myself, I _still_ loved him_…the friends that used to be mine, the family that should have been mine, and the life that could have been mine. _Don't blame her; you're the one who ran away._ The thought that it was bound to happen whether I'd run away to New York or not was hardly comforting, but it was something to cling to and I desperately needed something to keep me from drowning in the deep pool of pity I was wallowing in.

Jake reached under the table, gently squeezing my thigh, and then letting it softly rest there. I didn't know what prompted the gesture—comfort, wanting my attention, whatever—but I was grateful for it. It proved to be just the impetus I needed to drag my eyes away from _her_—from _Charlotte_. I focused instead on the tines of my fork scraping across my plate as I pushed my food around, wondering if I was being too hard on Jake, and knowing—but loathe to admit—that I'd been sub-consciously causing many of the problems between us. Feeling guilty, I laced our fingers together and squeezed his hand at the same time that I shifted in my seat, bumping our shoulders together.

Still staring at my plate, I heard, rather than saw, Esme stand. My eyes flitted to her, noting as they did that nearly everyone at the table was doing exactly as what I'd just been—playing with their food. The only ones looking away from their plates were Jake and Rose; they were raptly watching whatever was playing out at the end of the table, mere feet to my right. Edward still hadn't returned to his seat, he remained standing at the foot of the table with Char…still clutching his hand. Or so I assumed she still was, because I refused to look.

I wasn't certain what she had been told about me or how Edward has explained our relationship—was I merely a friend of his sister's, a family acquaintance, an honorary family member?—but her eyes roaming over me made my skin crawl. It felt as if she was trying to see what the fuss was all about, but kept coming up short.

Esme cleared her throat delicately—pulling Charlotte's attention away from me, thank fuck…s_tare much?_ _I don't know, childish much, Bella?_—and then spoke, declaring, "Charlotte, what a surprise! We weren't expecting you. Edward said you were called into the hospital for a surgery."

Rosalie mumbled something unintelligible and then, with a loud thud as her knee hit the underside of the table, she jerked upright, glaring across the table at Alice. It was obvious that Alice was keeping her in check, because Rose kept her mouth shut. Of course, that could have had something to do with Esme who glanced sharply down at her, a scowl briefly replacing her polite but indifferent smile. By the time she looked back to Charlotte, seconds later, her face was once again a mask of pleasantness.

"Oh, well, um…" Charlotte started haltingly, "the surgery was less complicated than expected, so it didn't take nearly as much time as the attending had estimated. I didn't want you to think I was blowing you off after saying I would be here, so I came as soon as I finished. I hope I'm not too late?" Her voice was all delicate and feminine, full of questioning hope.

I decided I hated her voice. It gave the impression that she lacked a backbone, which wasn't something Edward had ever found attractive. I couldn't see it lasting. He'd end up running roughshod over her one too many times, and one of them would end it. The Edward I knew could never be with someone long-term who couldn't hold her own against him; he needed to be told 'no' every now and then. Then again, what did I know? Maybe he liked his women all docile and submissive now a days. He never used to, though.

Esme replied in a somewhat strained voice, "Not at all. We just started. Let me set you a place at the table. Edward, be a dear and take her coat please."

Edward mumbled his acquiescence and Esme disappeared into the kitchen. Hearing the rustle of fabric as Dr. Girlfriend slipped her coat off, followed by Edward's footsteps on the marble floor as he took it to the hall closet, my eyes shifted back down to my plate. As I focused on mapping the route of the A Train—express, not local—a pale, long-fingered hand was thrust into my face. It floated above my plate, obscuring my cartography and making me completely miss the sharp right after 8th Avenue. _Oh, well…I was getting off at the next stop anyway._

Confused—not quite able to process what it was hovering just below my nose or why it was there—I looked up sharply, and was somewhat taken aback to find Charlotte gazing down at me, a forced smile on her face pretty, rose-petal-complexioned face. My eyes bounced repeatedly between her hand and her face. Distracted and still trying to ascertain what she wanted, everything in my head was scrambled. When I finally had a moment of lucidity—the fleeting thought that she looked like a porcelain doll or something, too fragile to be touched—it was completely worthless.

Having convinced my head to quit ping-ponging back and forth, my eyes settled on her hand, which would have been the end of my dumb-show had I not continued to stare at it as if I'd never seen one before. After an awkward beat, during which I finally recognized the gesture she was making, I hesitantly placed just the tips of my fingers into her outstretched palms, barely returning her shake, and then quickly withdrew my hand, mumbling, "Hi?"

She smiled again, less forced this time, but thankfully with no triumph. "I'm Charlotte, Edward's _girlfriend_, and you must be Isabella." _Was it just me, or did she emphasize that she was his girlfriend a bit much?_

"Bella," both Edward and Jake corrected at the same time.

Rosalie snorted loudly, and then demanded shrilly of—I assumed—a glaring Alice, "What? I didn't say a word!" . . . "Whatever."

Crossing her legs, Rose made a big show of looking away from the soap-opera side of the room, but after just a few seconds, her attention drifted back.

_Awk-ward. _

I should have replied, said 'hi' at least, but I didn't dare say a word. Knowing the horrible knack my already unreliable filter had of completely disappearing in moments of stress or discomfort, I was unsure of what would come out of my mouth if I did. I was feeling outclassed enough as it was, I didn't need to add further embarrassment on top of it.

"Oh, sorry. Bella, then," she amended, but I wasn't fooled. _Oh, that's how you're going to play it? Bitch knew damn well I went by Bella… _"It's nice to meet you. I've heard so much about you." …_especially if she'd heard 'so much' about me._

I had a million sarcastic comments and snarky replies on the tip of my tongue, but not a one of them could be deemed appropriate, so I bit my tongue. In lieu of a verbal response, I smiled tightly in her general direction. Rose rolled her eyes, and I pretended that she was acting as my proxy rather than just being her usual bitchy self. _That was going to have to suffice. _Jacob, bless him…_I was starting to completely forget about what a dick he'd been for the past month and a half_…rose part way from his seat, hand extended to introduce himself. "I'm Jacob, Bell's boyfriend."

"Oh, I didn't know Bella was seeing someone!" Charlotte declared as if it were the greatest news on earth…, which, to her, it may have been. _Well, maybe she'd put her claws away now._ "We should go out together sometime—you and Bella, and me and Edward. It would be fun." _Guess not._

I choked on my own spit, and Jake turned to me in alarm, patting me on the back and asking, "You okay, babe?"

Nodding, I reached for my wine and slammed it back, nearly choking on it, too, when Jake turned back to Charlotte, intending to reply. Thank the gods of impeccable timing, just then Esme re-entered the dining room, preventing Jake from answering Edward's Miss Right.

"Okay, Charlotte—we'll put you here next to Edward," Esme announced, quickly setting her place at the table. "There we go. Have a seat and dish up before it gets too cold."

Charlotte and Edward waited for Esme to step out from beside the table, heading back to her seat at the opposite corner of the table, before taking their seats. Edward caught my eye as he sat and, for just a split second, all the years, the distance and the hurt between us fell away and he was _my_ Edward again, the one who had been my friend. The one who had spent a week in Florida getting hit on by my pregnant mother just so I wouldn't have to face her alone. The one who had beaten the shit out of that perv-bag Newton because he wouldn't quit fucking with me. The one who, during my first semester of college, had gone to the bookstore and purchased all of my books for me because I was sick with the flu.

But the moment was fleeting as a wild creature, disappearing almost as soon as it was seen, the sweet earnestness on his face, in his eyes, was replaced by a deep sadness that I easily recognized, because I saw it in my own eyes nearly every time I looked into a mirror. Holding my eye a second more, he mouthed 'sorry' to me, and then scooted in his chair. I wasn't certain what he was apologizing for—at this point the list was endless—but the gesture brought tears to my eyes regardless. Esme, passing behind me just then, reached out and squeezed my shoulder affectionately, nearly breaking me.

Under the pretense of looking at his mother, Edward really watched me. But all too soon, Esme's hand slipped over the point of my shoulder, dragging around my upper arm and along my back, as she continued on to her seat, and Edward was forced to drop his gaze. He took his time about it, though, moving from my face down the expanse of my neck to met my shoulder, and then along the ridge of my collarbone. Suddenly stopping, his eyes snapped back to the crook of my neck like a resetting typewriter, and then he froze.

I suffered a moment of confusion, but as his eyes lingered, I remembered—_oh, fuck!—_and my hand flew up to cover it, but it was too little, too late; my sweater had somehow shifted just enough to reveal what it was supposed to conceal. For the life of me, I couldn't figure out how it could have moved—I was so careful to not pull or tug on it—and then, as I felt the ghost of a tug, the subtlest of shifts, and I realized it had happened when Esme touched me in passing. _I knew I should have worn something different._ While I was making my revelation, Edward was making a few of his own.

He darted narrowed eyes back and forth between Jake and the spot where his love bite—covered by my sweater once again—was, and I could virtually see the anger swell and bubble within him. His expression darkened almost imperceptibly, and I knew he was seconds away from imploding, the force of his rage black hole-like, would suck us all into its depths, but he clenched his jaw and managed to somehow rein it in. Breathing a sigh of relief, I glanced around casually, discovering happily that our interaction appeared to have gone unnoticed…_along with the fact that they had almost died._

…_you used to run me away, all while laughing, then cry about that fact 'til I returned_…

I felt like I had split personalities—one of them was still (and probably always would be) desperately in love with Edward, while the other wanted to laugh as she watched him suffer—and there was a war suddenly taking place between the two of them. At the moment, they were evenly matched—the pathetic, still-in-love me was embarrassed and chagrined, but the vindictive me was eating up the pain on Edward's face, loving that he was getting a taste of his own medicine. The battle shifted, Vindictive pulling ahead as it sank in and Edward's eyes filled with despair; he finally understood what I had felt every time I'd caught him with another girl.

…_I'd send the pain below_…

His expression hardened again, his eyes snapping back to mine to give me an angry, heated look that was too much. I couldn't think, I couldn't breathe, and both halves of me were losing. Why did hurting him hurt me so much? Had he felt this way all the times he hurt me? I was dizzy, I was drowning; I needed to get away.

…_much like suffocating_…

"I'm gonna get some more wine," I announced, popping out of my chair. "Anybody else want some?" It was a rhetorical question as I was already halfway to the kitchen and not really listening anyway.

"I wouldn't mind a small glass," Charlotte said. I ignored her.

Pouring myself a generous glass and then, seeing as how there wasn't that much left, shrugging my shoulders, I brought the bottle up to my lips and slammed it back, totally forgetting that I was within view of one-third of the dining room table. _Eh, Edward and Dr. Passive-Aggressive-Territory-Marker couldn't see, so who the fuck cared._ Ignoring the amused and concerned looks—in that order—of Rose and Jasper, I carefully returned to my seat with my wine.

Just as I sat down, Charlotte asked, eyes all big as she took in the nearly overflowing glass of wine still in my hand, "Did you get me a glass?"

I took a deep gulp of it, and then, looking her straight in the eyes, unapologetically replied, "Oh sorry…we ran out."

.

~∞Ѿ∞~

.

The remainder of dinner passed relatively uneventfully and with minimal conversation. Carlisle asked after Billy, telling Jake to call him if he needed anything or had any questions, and he and Esme inquired about my upcoming interviews and school. Charlotte wisely kept her mouth shut.

Once dinner had been finished and the plates cleared away, Esme sent us all to the library for brandy while she finished dessert. Charlotte and Edward managed to get lost on the way and, while they weren't missed—well, she wasn't—I couldn't stop myself from imagining what they were doing. I decided to boycott my imagination. Imagination was overrated anyway.

Either it didn't take nearly as long for Esme to finish dessert as she thought it would, or it took forever for our dawdling asses to make it to the library, because before I knew it, Esme was calling us back to the dining room as she placed still-warm crème bruleé at each of our seats.

"Bella," Esme called, "can you find Edward and Charlotte, and let them know dessert's ready, please?"

_No,_ I thought to myself, but replied with a smile, "Of course. Be right back."

_Please don't let them be in his room. Please don't let them be in his room. Please don't let them be in his room…and please, for fuck's sake, don't let them be naked. Or groping…touching at all, actually. If it's not too much to ask, that is, _I chanted with each step I took.

I checked the library, even though we had just come from there. Empty. Wandering down the hall, I checked the formal living room. Also, empty. Making my way around the corner and past the stairs, I approached the doorway to the den where I was brought up short by voices coming from inside. They were the lowered, hissing voices of two people who were trying to have a private argument in a house full of people. I should have immediately announced my presence, but I didn't; I just couldn't bring myself to do it.

"Charlotte, why did you even bother coming? You knew you had to turn around and go straight back to Seattle after dinner?"

"I told your mother I would be here! I wasn't going to be rude and just not show up, especially since this is the only thing that your mother has ever personally invited me to…and I wanted to spend time with you."

_Esme invi…? No. _

"Bullshit. Esme would have understood. When you finally make it home, you'll have driven eight hours, and for what? A dinner that you missed half of, and thirty minutes of stilted conversation?"

"Whatever, Edward. Why are you acting like this?"

"Like what, Char?"

"Like you don't even want me here! You've been acting like this since you found out about the party. You're mother wouldn't have had Alice call me about the party if she didn't want me here, so I don't understand why you're so mad that I came. Is this about _her_? You're not still hung-up on her, are you?

"She's clearly moved on, Edward, and in case you forgot, so have you. Or did you not want me to meet her? Were you going to try and keep me a secret—try turning me into your whore like you did with her?"

_Oh! He-lllllll no…_

"Bella, her name is Bella, and she was never my whore. Don't fucking talk about shit that you know nothing about. This isn't about Bella; it's about the fact that it should have just been family here!" he snarled at her.

Never had I heard Edward speak with such vitriol; he wasn't addressing me, but the seething, barely-controlled rage in his voice caused even me to blanch. Still, I couldn't control the malicious smirk that came to my face when she continued pushing him. She didn't know him at all if she couldn't see that he had just about reached the end of his rope…_and he wouldn't be the one hanging from it._

"We're together now, Edward, I _am_ family."

"We're not married, Char. You aren't family." _Oooh! Ouch!_

"Jasper and Rose aren't married to Alice and Emmett, but they're considered family."

"We all grew up together, Char. They practically lived here when we were kids."

"Well, excuse me for not growing up in Forks! When are you going to stop holding me at arm's length? Your family, your _real_ family, has obviously accepted me—I mean, your mother _did _invite me, after all—but you…you're always so hot and cold. Whenever we're around your family, you're cold and distant, but when it's just the two of us—" it sounded as if she shuffled closer to him and then, in a sex-kitten voice, she continued, "—when we're naked and in bed together, you're sweet and attentive…I just don't get it."

I wanted to retch, I didn't want to know that he was fucking her, didn't want to have to hear it from her lips in that simpering tone she was using, but that's the problem with eavesdropping. You usually hear things you'd rather not. Although I didn't really want any more details about their sex life, morbid curiosity prevented me from moving. Waiting for Edward's response, I held my too-loud breath and peeled my ears. My heart pounding in my chest, he took a deep breath, and…Jake called me from the end of the hall.

"Bella, babe—what's taking so long? Dessert's gettin' cold, and I've got to get back to my dad soon."

_Way to ruin things once again—babe._

"Um, I had to run upstairs for…something, but I actually just found them, so we'll be right there," I stammered, my face flaming. _I really was a shitty liar._ Exposed, I stepped into the doorway of the den, and with forced brightness declared, "Hey, there you guys are! Finally found ya! Esme wanted me to let you know dessert was ready. I'll just go let her know you're comi…" I choked, "er, on your way."

As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I spun on my heel and all but ran down the hallway to the dining room. I knew I looked guilty as fuck, but I didn't think Charlotte noticed…and if she did, fuck her. Edward on the other hand…well, there was no hope that I'd fooled him; he knew me too well for that. I fell into my seat at the table, announcing much too loudly, "They're on their way. They were in the den. I found them there when I came back down from upstairs, like…a minute ago."

My strange behavior garnered some odd looks, but Edward and Charlotte arrived before anyone could comment. Edward quickly took his seat while Charlotte stood patiently at the end of the table, waiting until everyone quieted down before speaking. "Hey, Es?" _Es? What were they, best friends suddenly? Get real,_ I thought. "As much as I'd love to, I can't stay for dessert. I have an early shift in the morning, so I have to go. Sorry to eat and run, but dinner was lovely, and thank you for inviting me."

Esme stared at her blankly before replying. "Oh, okay. Shame you couldn't stay longer. You needn't have come all this way when you just had to rush back. So much needless driving," she clucked. "Well, thanks for coming. Do drive safely on your way back home."

I knew that tone, she only used it when forced to make small talk with someone she'd rather not speak to, and I barely kept from laughing. _I loved Esme._ Still, sitting there seeing the discomfort play across Charlotte's face upon Esme's clear dismissal, I couldn't help feel the tiniest twinge of pity for her. _I was starting to think that I was much too sympathetic for my own good._ Of course, when I remembered the games she'd been trying to play with me since her arrival, any forming sympathy vanished. _Ha, bitch! You might have Edward, but his family loves _me_._

"I will," she agreed, both her face and her tone crestfallen. "Thanks again for dinner. Night, everyone."

She received a smattering of goodbyes—from Carlisle, Jasper, and Alice—but the rest of us, including Edward, just grunted non-committally and continued eating our dessert. With a soft, sad sigh, she turned and made her way down the hall. _One of these things is not like the other,_ I sang in my head, still silently gloating over the fact that she clearly didn't fit in with the family that I considered mine. I heard her stop in the hall, the hall closet open and then close as she grabbed her coat, and then…nothing. What was the hold up? _Time to go now. Buh-bye._

"Edward…are-aren't you going to walk me out?" she questioned from the hall, her wavering voice breaking my resolve to _not_ feel anything, especially sympathy for her. _I knew what an inconsiderate jerk Edward Cullen could be._

"Wha…? Oh! Um—uh, yeah…coming," Edward stuttered, adding under his breath as he stood from his chair, "I guess. Wouldn't want you to get lost on your way to your car or anything."

In a sudden fit of charity, as they walked out the front door together, I called out, "It was nice to meet you, Charlotte. Drive safe."

"Uh...yeah, nice to meet you too," she returned, sounding a little confused.

The dining room was dead silent as the door shut. "She seemed nice."

And still, no one said a word. Luckily, I finished my dessert seconds later.

.

~∞Ѿ∞~

.

Edward disappeared to his room after Charlotte left. Jake left a short time after that, wanting to get back to his father. I walked him out to his car, an old beat up VW Rabbit from his high school days, and gave him a peck goodbye, conscious of the fact that people—and by people I mean Edward—could possibly see us from the house. Jake had no such compunction, and tried to turn it into something more, pinning me against the car and grinding himself against me.

"Jake!" I gasped. "Stop! Someone could see us."

"Come on, no one's looking."

"You don't know that," I countered.

"Who cares, you're an adult. Just relax, babe. Let me make you feel good," he cajoled, peppering kisses along my neck, but I was burning up with shame.

"You're right, I am an adult, but if I don't get back inside soon, someone _is_ going to come and check on me. I don't feel like being caught making out with my boyfriend by Carlisle and Esme; it's a bit too high school."

"You didn't seem to mind the high school flashback today in my room," he whispered huskily against my ear.

"Yeah, well this afternoon I didn't feel as if you were metaphorically pissing on my leg. I'm cold, I don't have a coat on, and I'm tired; I'm going inside. I'll see you tomorrow, okay."

He pushed himself away from me and crossed his arms. "Yeah, fine…whatever. I gotta get back to my dad anyway." _Oh great, he's pouting. Again. What is he, five? _

I felt a sting of guilt over my dismissive attitude towards him at the mention of his father, and reminded myself that Jake had a lot on his plate and that I should probably cut him a little slack. Not wanting to add to his stress by parting on bad terms, I leaned towards him, fisting his sweater in my hands and pulling him towards me, before giving him a slow, but thorough kiss. It trailed off, and with two, final parting pecks, I stepped back, promising, "I'll see you tomorrow—bright and early, so you better be up and ready to show me around your old stomping grounds."

He grinned, his humor improved, and teased, "I don't think my old stomping grounds are going to be safe for you, Stumbelina."

"Pshaw! Bring it, buddy. I'm not that clumsy."

He snorted, accusing, "You've got two left feet and no center of gravity!"

I rolled my eyes, but chose not to comment; it was hard to refute the truth. _Not that I was quite that bad, but I was admittedly slightly more-accident prone than the average person._

When I looked back at him, Jake's expression had softened, all the amusement that had been visible moments before, replaced by the love and devotion he had for me, and my heart clenched knowing that I couldn't return the depth his feelings no matter how desperately I wished I could.

"I love you, Bells." Not a declaration, as it had already been declared and professed, but a gentle reminder that shamed me. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Love you, too." And I did…in my own way.

I closed the front door quietly behind me and headed upstairs going straight to my room; it had been a long day. As much as I thought New York had been the right decision—if for no other reason than it forced me to stand on my own two feet, out of my comfort zone just as Charlie had said the day I'd left Forks—the year and a half I'd spent there hadn't been reality, hadn't been my real life. And now, having crash-landed in my life, already in progress, I needed a moment to regain my balance and try to find some kind of equanimity.

I loved my friends, and Carlisle and Esme and Charlie, and I'd missed them all, but I hadn't had a moment to myself since I'd returned. I was overwhelmed, emotionally discombobulated, and wanted nothing more than to wrap myself in quiet solitude. Reaching the sanctuary of my room, I went inside, locked the door behind me and collapsed face first on my bed in search of peace.

But there was no peace to be had.

.

~∞Ѿ∞~

.

As dawn broke over the black of night, I gave up the pretense of sleeping. Giving it up as an exercise in futility, I got dressed. At first light, I slipped out of the house, ghosting silently across the frozen tundra of the back yard until the dense forest closed in around me. The path was overgrown, as if no one had been down it in ages, but I made my way agilely. Thick fog hung thick in the air around me, at once dampening and amplifying the sounds of the forest animals. The frozen water molecules suspended in the air so swollen that I could practically see each one in front of my face as I cut through them.

I was puffing from exertion by the time I made it to the log 'bench' overlooking the creek. It wasn't as if I hadn't been physically active in New York, but making your way down an overgrown trail through the forest proved to be much more taxing than walking down a sidewalk, but the excursion left me feeling clean and refreshed, the crisp air enlivening and helping to shake off the mantle of my sleepless night. Carefully so as not to slip, I made my way to _my_ spot on the log and plopped down on the damp, frost-speckled surface.

I stared out across the creek, letting the gentle sound of the water as it trickled downstream soothe me, and I felt myself drifting off. Despite my frozen toes and fingers, I was almost asleep when I felt him and, although I hadn't snuck out there with the intent of luring him to me—not consciously, at least—as the hair on the back of my neck stood up, a familiar current running through me, I realized that I'd been expecting him all along.

"Edward," I said softly, "what brings you out here at this hour?"

He was silent but, even though I didn't look, I knew he was there. Sure enough, after a moment, he spoke up, saying, "I—uh, couldn't sleep, and I saw you heading out here–" I finally turned and saw him standing just inside the clearing, looking down at his feet. Noticing my movement he looked up, awkwardly raising up the blanket that he held in his hands as he finished with, "–I worried you might get cold."

His uncertainty and hesitance completely disarmed me, and I found myself smiling softly at him but, still not willing to look at me, it was completely wasted on him. He shuffled his feet a few times while I looked him over, checking to find any subtle changes that would differentiate him from _my _Edward. His hair was a little shorter than the last time I'd seen him and he looked a little older, perhaps, but those were the only changes I could detect, his bulky clothes hiding his form from me.

I thought of the last time I had seen him, conjuring up an image to compare him to, and heat surged through my body, distracting my mind. I could distinctly remember the feel of his hands on me…of my hands on him…of the pleasure that washed over me as he used his fingers to bring me to orgasm while I stroked him, stopping just short of his completion and then throwing him out of my apartment. Blood rushed to my face and I gasped before looking away guiltily, choosing to stare back out over the water as my blood cooled and my cheeks returned to their normal color. The silence dragged on for a few moments longer, neither of us moving and barely breathing, before Edward's voice broke it.

"I'll just leave this here for you, and I'll get out of your hair then... Um, so yeah—here you are, and bye."

His uncharacteristic ineloquence made me act rashly. Hearing him turn and start to leave, I jumped up without thinking, calling out hoarse and brokenly after him, "Edward!"

He turned, looking at me hopefully, and then I heard myself saying, "Since you're here – you might as well stay. I mean, you came all this way… If you want." I added quickly.

"Yeah?" he asked, with a small smile, finally daring to hope, and I felt my own smile return and grow wider.

"Yeah—but only if you want."

"Yeah…okay," he said with a nod, bending to pick up the blanket from off the ground, and then making his way to the log and sitting down in his spot beside me.

I was vaguely aware of warning bells going off in the back of my mind, but the buzz from his nearness was too loud, drowning them out and making me forget why I shouldn't be sitting there with him like that in the first place.

.

**~∞Ѿ∞~**

.

* * *

**Songs Used**  
**(In Order of Appearance):**  
_Just Dropped In (To See What Condition My Condition Was In)_, written by Mickey Newbury and, starting with Jerry Lee Lewis, performed by countless artists; I happen to like the Willie Nelson version (don't ask)  
_You Make Me Feel Like a Whore_, Everclear  
_Send the Pain Below,_ Chevelle

**Notes:  
**1. _Keep telling yourself that, Gertrude._—Reference to the line _'The lady doth protest too much, methinks.'_ Said by Queen Gertrude in Act III, Scent II of Hamlet by William Shakespeare.  
2. "That's not happiness to see me, love."—line from the movie _A Perfect Murder._

**Rec's:  
**_We Were Here _by lola-pops  
_Under the Same Moon_ by GreenEyedGirl17  
_For Whom the Bell Tolls_ by CyraBear


	10. Chapter 10 Replacement

**Disclaimer: **S. Meyer owns all recognizable characters, plots, etc. Only original content, characters, etc. belongs to author. No copyright infringement intended. Any errors contained herein, are expressly the fault of the authors idiocy, and not her betas.

**Word Count:** 67341

**A/N: This chapter was a bitch to write—when I actually managed to find the time to work on it—and has gone through a couple major re-writes. It was originally about 3-4k longer, but it just wasn't working, so I cut it out. I apologize for the major wait and for delivering a shorter chapter than normal despite that. It may look like things aren't getting better yet, but they are actually on their way up, it's just going to take a little time. These two characters have gotten themselves into a fine little mess, and there are no easy fixes for their situation, but it's coming. **

I can't express enough my appreciation to V for betaing, and to Char for keeping this chapter and all the others from sucking, but I will never stop trying.

Finally, thanks to all of you for reading and reviewing. Now, on with the show.

Enjoy.

* * *

**Chapter 10 – Replacement**

**

* * *

**

_Oh, my lover, look what you've done,  
You've gone and took your love away…  
…It started as an honest attraction,  
Began under the guise of a flirt,  
Till you were screaming, at the edge of the bed,  
"Nobody moves, nobody gets hurt…"_

…_Oh, my lover, the clock runs slow  
Ever since the day you went away,  
And though I've tried a hundred ways to forget you,  
Still the emptiness is always the same  
No matter who is laying beside me,  
All it does is make me wish it were you,  
And if I close my eyes tight, I can almost pretend  
And, for a moment, it's as if it were true…_

…_You can pin it all on me,  
The blame is mine to bear  
With all the things I've done to you,  
We're far beyond repair,  
But still sometimes I think of us,  
And how things fell apart  
And how you knew, from the first kiss,  
That I would break your heart…  
_- She Wants Revenge

**Previously **

"_Yeah—but only if you want."_

"_Yeah…okay," he said with a nod, bending to pick up the blanket from off the ground, and then making his way to the log and sitting down in his spot beside me. _

.

~∞Ѿ∞~

.

…_I say my hell is the closet I'm stuck inside_, _can't see the light_…

When my ass hit the surface of the frozen log, my balls retreated into my body and my dick tried to turn itself inside out to join them. Seriously, how was she not freezing her ass off? Thinking she had to be cold, and not wanting her to catch one, I unfolded the blanket I had brought with me (mostly as an excuse to follow her) and flung it over her lap. She looked at me questioningly.

…_keep it locked up inside don't talk about it; t-t-talk about the weather_…

I shrugged. "You looked cold."

With a small smile, she quietly replied, "Thanks," and then looked away to gaze across the creek; I shoved my hands into the pockets of my coat, hunkered my shoulders against the cold, and followed suit. We drifted in the semi-silence of the forest—together, but apart—neither of us knowing what to say or how to start. There was just _so _much to say.

…_so much to say, so much to say, so much to say, so much to say, ohhh_, _open up my head and let me out little baby_…

Finally…

"Oh…come here!" she blurted, annoyed. Raising the edge of the blanket, she held it open for me, shrugging as she said, "It's a big blanket. We're both adults; we can share."

I didn't move—_she couldn't be serious?_—just sat there, freezing, and continued to stare, trying to figure her out.

…'_cos here we have been standing for a long, long time_…

"Edward, stop being such a martyr. You're cold, you packed an enormous blanket all the way out here—there's no reason for you to freeze."

"I'm not…" I started, but the expression on her face stopped me. "Fine," I consented, scooting closer to her, but not too close, and covering myself with the offered edge of the blanket.

…_treading trodden trails for a long, long time_…

Silence descended again, only this time decidedly more awkward and tense. We were like mirror images, both of us so aware of the close proximity of the other, and of the blanket covering us, that we couldn't relax. The entire left side of my body tingled painfully—it was like that pins and needles feeling you get when the blood rushes back into your limb after it falls asleep. It wasn't pleasant, but I welcomed it because of what it meant—that Bella was beside me.

Bella was, once again, the one to break the silence…_because I was too pussy to do it myself._ "So…Charlotte seems – nice."

_Abort! Abort! _my mind screamed…but I didn't listen.

…_I find sometimes it's easy to be myself; sometimes I find it's better to be somebody else_…

"She is," I agreed, because it was true; Charlotte _was _nice. Too nice. _But she's not you,_ I wanted to add, only didn't. Couldn't. Or wouldn't.

…_one year of crying and the words creep up inside, creep into your mind yeah_…

Lapsing into silence again. It was the calm before the storm, my mouth seconds away from overriding my ass. "Jacob seems like a dick." What? It wasn't as if it wasn't true. _Fucking cocksucker._

Grabbing two handfuls of her hair, she tugged on it—a gesture I was intimately familiar with because it was mine—and groaned. "Arghh! Seriously, Edward? God! That's so, so – _like_ you! Did you ever stop and consider that maybe you're the one who's the dick? Jacob's great."

She stopped for a moment, thinking, and when she spoke again, her voice was quieter; softer, but no sweeter. In that short length of time, the spark in her eyes had died. Now she just seemed defeated, resigned, and it crushed me because I knew I'd done that to her. Unable to bear looking at the beautiful girl I'd broken, I hung my head in shame.

"He's good to me—good _for_ me. He really loves me, and he makes me happy." A bit of her previous temper returning, her voice held an edge when she added, "Not that it's any of your business; I don't need to justify my relationships or my life to you. I don't owe you anything. I've moved on. We both have, so what does it even matter, and why do you even care?"

I laughed bitterly. "Yeah, it looked like he was '_good to you_' last night before dinner when he manhandled you in the hallway. You remember that, don't you? It was right before he dragged you into the den, all pissed off and pushy-like?" Another laugh, although nothing I was saying was funny. "And I know I'm a dick, Bella—I never claimed I wasn't—but…_fuck_! I care because… You know what, forget it. You're right, it's none of my fucking business."

Standing abruptly and flinging the blanket off me as I rose, I turned to go—probably should have kept going, but I didn't. Stopping after a single step, I told her, "You're wrong, though. We haven't both moved on..." I closed my eyes and took a breath, "and it does matter. It's the _only_ thing that matters." _You're the only thing that matters_, was what I really wanted to say, but I couldn't quite bring myself to speak those words aloud.

.

~∞Ѿ∞~

.

I stalked off, aware that I was running away, but not giving a shit. It was better that I left; anger and heartbreak were a volatile combination, and I was trying not to do more damage than I'd already done. It felt imperative that I prove to Bella that I'd changed, that I could be someone worthy of her—even if I never got her back—because I just couldn't live with the thought of her hating me. If all I could ever have of her was civility and her good opinion (table scraps compared to what we used to have and what we could have had)…well, at least it was something. I had no pride left, and beggars can't be choosers.

My stride was purposefully long and ground-covering, wanting to put as much distance between us as possible so that when I changed my mind and went rushing back to her, I had time to regain my sanity and turn back around. I must have turned around at least a half a dozen times—sometimes angry and wanting to give her a few more pieces of my mind, other times my fury turned inward and I wanted to throw myself prostrate at her feet—but I never made it more than a few strides before my pendulous emotions would swing the other direction and I would turn back around.

The grueling pace I'd set for myself helped take the edge off, and as my anger cooled, my pace began to slow. I was all but crawling down the path when I was surprised by her swift step behind me. Fathoming a guess as to where she was off to in such a hurry caused my blood to boil. I didn't want to see her rushing off to him, and I couldn't imagine that she would be happy to see me, but it was too late to hide; I would just have to grin and bear it. _Well, maybe not grin._ Taking deep breaths and attempting to think calm, rational thoughts about not killing the pup, I steeled myself for her passage.

It was a lot harder than I imagined it would be; her presence was like a physical blow, and no matter how used to being struck one is, it isn't something you're ever quite prepared for. Briefly, I pictured myself diving headfirst into the dense brush to either side of the trail, and then the jig was up; the time spent imagining it, was the very thing that prevented it. If the weight of her stare on my back hadn't been enough to alert me that I'd been spotted, the hitch in her giddy-up as her sure step faltered certainly did the job. And then she stopped…and I stopped nearly everything, not sure what the fuck would come next.

"What the fuck was that supposed to mean, Cullen?" she yelled at my back.

It took a moment for her words to actually sink in. I was one step behind, still processing the fact that she hadn't walked right on by as if I wasn't there, so having her address me, seriously fucked me in the head. My mental capacities were brought to a standstill, the line, 'Y_ou talkin' to me?' _ringing in my ears on repeat. When I did finally absorb what she'd said, not even registering the harshness of her tone, I was confused. I understood what she'd said, could have repeated it back to her, but it made so little sense to me that it might as well have been gibberish.

Not knowing what the fuck she was talking about, but knowing I was going to be forced to hear her out (curiosity may have killed the cat, but what they forgot to mention was that the cat was such a masochistic fuck that he didn't mind) I just stood there, waiting—hoping—for her to elaborate. But she didn't. I sighed deeply, realizing that she wasn't going to make this easy or painless for me, and then turned to face her, my eyes locked on the ground near her feet.

"What was _what _supposed to mean, Bella? I don't have a clue what you're talking about, so I'm going to need you to fill me in," I explained, closing my eyes, resigned to my fate. Expecting to see no more of her than the tips of her shoes at the edge of my moss-filled vision, my eyes bugged out of my head when they were met with her boobs instead. I quickly dropped my eyes back to the ground, the tips of her toes nearly touching the tips of mine, front and center.

"_You,"_ I didn't need to see her to know the look on her face; I could hear the sneer in her voice, "implying that _I_ haven't moved on because, for your information, I have and I'm _very _happy—the happiest I've _ever_ been, actually—so fuck you, you arrogant, cocky ass!" She advanced on me as she shouted, jabbing my chest with two fingers every word or three for emphasis. I couldn't follow her logic; what I'd said and where she was leaping to were light years away from each other, and it perturbed me to no end.

Between my generally shitty mood and her accusations, my anger was starting to flare up—little hot spots here and there, catching and igniting—but growing alongside my irritation was numbness, and the combination of the two left me feeling too weary to even muster the willpower to fight with her. I abdicated to her—_fine, whatever you say, Bella_—closing my ranks and retreating with each poke, until I found my back against a tree, leaving me with nowhere to go.

"You never really had me, anyway," she finished vehemently, her cheeks flushed with cold and fury, and it was like I'd been shocked with a defibrillator, the resulting jolt enough to push back the numbness that had begun creeping over me.

"Oh, I _never really had you_, Isabella?" I growled, rising to my full height and leaning towards her so that I pushed against her fingers. "Really? Because I seem to remember having every part of you, in every way imaginable."

Turning the tables on her, I grasped her shoulders and switched our positions. Once her back was against the tree, caged by my arms and my body pressed as close to hers as possible without actually touching her, I began reminding her of all the ways I'd had her.

"All those times I had you bent over my couch with my dick buried inside you," I whispered in her ear. My lips just barely grazed her ear and she shivered. "After graduation with my hand up your skirt at the dinner table." I traced the tip of my nose from her hairline to her jaw, ghosting across that spot behind her ear that I knew made her crazy. "That time I licked your sweet pussy on the football field. Your lips wrapped around my cock just about every time we were alone in my car like you couldn't get enough of me…I couldn't get enough of you, either."

She was trembling against me, breathing heavily, but she was stiff in my arms, still resisting what her body and heart…_I hoped_…knew she wanted, but her mind wasn't wanting to let them have.

"That's n-not what I m-meant, and you know it," she told me shakily, but I ignored her, scraping her jaw with my teeth instead, causing her to whimper and then melt against me as all the fight seemed to leave her. It still wasn't enough, though; she had yielded, but she wasn't participating, and it made me feel as if I was taking something from her when I wanted her to give it to me. I wanted her passion, her love, her everything. _And I wanted to stop sounding like a Goddamned Lady Gaga song._ Finally, she did.

Her arms snaked around my neck, and her fingers twined in my hair, pulling my mouth to hers before kissing me furiously. I gave myself over to the heat building between us, allowing Bella's rough tugs on my hair to tilt and push and pull, guiding my mouth to where she wanted it. The pressure I was feeling quickly became too much; it needed to be released before I exploded. Bending my knees, I pressed myself against her, both of us groaning from the sensation, and my head fell against her shoulder. Still, I needed more, so I yanked her leg up until her knee hooked over my hip, bending my knees to make her more comfortable.

Bodies pressed together as tightly as possible—all the important parts perfectly aligned—I straightened my knees a bit, mashing my hard-on against her as I lifted my knees so that I dragged the length of my hard dick along the length of her. Her back bowed, pushing her further into me and creating even more hot fucking friction. Bella hissed, releasing my bottom lip from her teeth as her head fell back against the tree behind her, so I did it again. And again. And again. And again.

There was a minute or two, where I checked out; no longer inhabiting my body, I leaned against a nearby tree and watched us grind against each other as I thought about everything that had led to this situation. It had been a rash, impulsive decision that led me to rush out of the house when I saw Bella sneaking off to the woods and, while it was true I didn't want Bella to get sick, neither of us were fooled by the weak excuse I gave for being there. And then we had fought and I'd run off, only to have her chase me down to fight again.

Actually, I was pretty sure we were still fighting, and I could only hope that all of our fights, from that point on, were fought like that. Some logical part of my mind—the part that wasn't my dick—told me that this was too much, too quick, that it would blow up in my face, but I couldn't stop; it had been so long. Too long. There wouldn't be any fucking, it was too cold for that, but it didn't matter, what we were doing was more than enough. Probably too much, but I was going to make sure she didn't regret it.

Just like that, I was back in the moment; the time for introspection had passed. I hadn't been lost inside my head long for anything to have really changed. We had found a decent rhythm—one that made my dick anxious for more even though it wouldn't be happening; we were more than just sex…present circumstances notwithstanding—that had both of us panting and me seeing stars, but her head was still back against the tree and her eyes were closed. I needed her to look at me, to stay with me, _be _with me, but I was terrified to do anything to break the spell she was under. Just as it was becoming too much—my enjoyment and pleasure about to be eclipsed by my need to have her look at me—Bella lifted her head, her eyes meeting mine.

"Bella," I whispered—a prayer, a confession, a declaration, a question, a curse, a plea, and thanks all rolled in one.

She sucked in a breath, and with fluttering eyes, tilted her head back briefly, as she moaned, "Oh, God."

It wasn't my name like I'd been hoping to hear, but it did the trick; my cock throbbed. I pressed against her harder. _Oh, fuckgodsogood! _

"Ed…" she started, and it was so good, I could have sworn I felt a vibration buzz between us.

Her half-lidded eyes shot open, and she cut my name off with a startled gasp. Suddenly, Bella's hands stopped pulling me to her, and started pushing me away. It was such a startling reversal that it took my hormone and Bella-filled brain a second to catch up. I was like the live television delay. _Thanks, Janet…oh, and, uh…thank you, Ms. Jackson._

"Edward – Edward, stop. S-stop!" She dropped her hands to my shoulders and shoved hard, the tree bracing her. I stumbled back a step, and reality descended, hard; I felt as if I had been slapped in the face. "I can't do this. I have to go, I was supposed to have been at Jake's an hour ago."

I dragged my hand across my mouth as I backed further away, my whole demeanor hardening. I wanted to shake her, to wake her up to what was between us, what she was walking away from, but wasn't stupid enough to try that shit. Instead, I shoved my hands into my coat pocket and kicked at a rock in the dirt with my toe.

"Yeah, right," I said awkwardly, but my voice cold, "you should probably get going."

"Right. Um, bye." She began to walk away. Stopping after two steps, she ran a hand through her hair. "Fuck. I forgot the blanket in the meadow."

"Don't worry about it, I'll go get it," I offered before she could turn around. I needed some time to clear my head, and it wasn't as if I wanted to walk with her back to the house; I didn't think either of us wanted that. "Don't want you to be later than you already are. Besides, I am the one who brought it out here."

"Uh, t-thanks," she stammered, and then started again for the house.

I didn't want her to go, but knew I couldn't make her stay. Regardless, I couldn't just watch her walk away without knowing why she was leaving—if he was an obligation or if what had just happened had been a mistake. Plus, I just didn't want her to let her go. In desperation, I shouted, "Do you love him?"

She froze. Not looking at me, she asked, "W-what?" Her tone was laced with disbelief…and something else.

"You heard me," I replied. "Do you love him?"

"Th-th-that's none of… I don't see what that has to…" She paused, collecting her thoughts so she'd quit stammering, and then huffed angrily, "I'm not going to play these little games with you, Edward."

Finally turning to face me, her expression was unreadable. "Look, with the wedding coming up, we're going to be seeing a lot more of each other. Let's just pretend that this—" she waved her hand "—little mistake never happened. We're going to have to learn how to get along, or at least tolerate one another. Things are going to be awkward enough as it is, let's not make everybody else miserable. It shouldn't be that hard to play nice. After all, we used to be pretty good friends…"

I snorted and interrupted her, "That's what you're going to call it? I'd say we were more than pretty good friends, Bella."

Her mouth formed an 'o', still holding the shape of the word that had died on her lips, and her face heated to a delicate shade of pink for a moment or two. I could tell the exact moment the anger kicked in, though. Her eyes narrowed and her face went incarnadine, and then she snapped at me, "Well, 'fuck buddies' isn't exactly appropriate for polite company, nor are any of the other labels I can come up with, so 'friends' is going to have to do."

She closed her eyes as she shook her head, and then continued as if I'd never interrupted, prompting her outburst. "For Emmett's sake—since I know you couldn't give a shit less about Rose…or anyone else for that matter—let's just try to fake it and then, once this wedding shit is over with, we can go back to our own corners and pretend the other one doesn't even exist."

"Whatever you say, Bella." I didn't know what to say. What to think. What to feel. Well, besides sick, my guts twisting up and a lump forming in my throat that was so big I could hardly get the words out.

She nodded before turning and quickly walking away. This time, I didn't stop her, just watched her go.

…_well, I guess you left me with some feathers in my hand. Did it make it any easier to leave me where I stand_…?

When I couldn't see her any longer, I headed back to the meadow for the blanket. Unlike my walk away from the meadow, my temper grew with every step I took back towards it. By the time I arrived, my anger was simmering just below the surface, and I decided it was best for me to cool my heels there for a while. I wanted to make sure that she was really gone before I went back. I wanted a drink. I wanted…something. _I wanted her._

…_Where'd you come from? Where am I going? Why'd you leave me 'til I'm only good for...waiting for you. All my sins...I said that I would pay for them if I could come back to you_…

I thought about many things while I sat there, my nose buried in the blanket, hoping for just a whiff of her. I thought about dinner and the days leading up to it, how I'd tried my damndest to get out of going, even trying to switch shifts with someone at the hospital but in the end, all of my efforts had failed; it was as if the universe was conspiring against me, against us…Bella and I.

Charlotte had flipped when she'd heard about the schedule thing, and we'd gotten into a huge fight. I couldn't really blame her, though; even I could see that my actions looked circumspect. Not that it made me back down; I stood my ground because backing down would have been as good as admitting my guilt, that her fears weren't without basis, which would start up a whole new _thing_, and I just wasn't interested in going down that path.

"_What the fuck is your issue with not wanting to go to dinner at your parents'? I don't get it."_

"_You don't need to get it, it has nothing to do with you—I just don't want to go," I hedged._

"_You're going to have to do better than that, Edward," she replied, tapping her toe in aggravation as if I owed her an explanation. She increased the force of her toe tapping until it sounded like a metronome, or my very own Tell-Tale Heart, and I caved, blurting out what she wanted to hear just to shut her up._

"_Fine! It's a welcome back dinner for Bella, and I just don't think it's appropriate for you to go, all right? Fuck!"_

"_Oh, that's just great! You don't think it's appropriate for me to go, but it's somehow okay for you to go to a dinner being held by your family for your ex – whatever she was? Your ex-fuck-buddy? That's bullshit, Edward…not to mention shady. How am I supposed to trust what you're saying under these circumstances? _

"_Your mother invited me—in fact, she was fairly adamant that we both attend, and I'm not just going to reject the first gesture of acceptance she's ever shown me." _

"_Charlotte, my mother was adamant that I be there; she simply used you to make sure it happened." I knew it was a cheap shot, but I was pissed and she was hitting too close to home about some things._

"_Whatever. I don't have time for your shit right now. I'm on shift soon, so I have to go, but we're not done talking about this."_

"_Whatever, Charlotte," I sighed._

When we'd finally discussed it…well, when she finally discussed it with herself while I listened, she had alternated beyond scathing anger and tears. I'd take angry over weepy any day. Not caring enough to want to fight with her and no longer having the energy to rail against fate's design any longer, I'd just given in to her.

Replaying our fight in my head led me to think about how awful I had been to Charlotte, my relief when she said she couldn't go, the dread I felt when I opened the door to find her standing there, and my disgust with the way she practically pissed on my leg when she arrived, marking her territory to let Bella know I was with her.

I remembered the way I felt when Bella literally crashed into my arms—the warm, solidness of her body against mine, her delicate scent, the tingles that ran through me…as pussy as that sounds. And then, I remembered what it felt like when all of that was taken from me. She'd pulled herself free of my arms when that prick, _Jake_, appeared in the hallway, and had gone running to him. All of the frustration and anger boiled over. I stood, throwing the blanket off of my shoulders, and paced angrily, back and forth, across the narrow strip of ground in front of our…no, _the_ log-bench.

The way he'd grabbed her—his fingers wrapping around her upper arm, digging into her flesh—before dragging her through the doorway of the den, glaring darkly at me the entire time he manhandled her. My fists clenched. God, I wanted to tear into him for touching her like that. The only thing that kept me from yanking his hand away from her and teaching him some manners, was the look Bella shot me, her eyes imploring me to stay where I was. If I was honest, at that moment, I'd hated her just a little for asking me to stand there and allow her to be treated that way.

_Was it the first time he'd ever touched her that way? Had it happened before? Why the fuck would she choose to be with a guy like that over me? Was he hurting her just then while I was too far away to know or save her? _The questions came rapid fire, along with images—real ones, gained from my spying as they said goodbye the night before, and imagined—and something violent swelled within me, needing to get out. Without thinking, I pulled my arm back and swung at the nearest thing I could find: the log-bench. The bite of the wood as it crumbled under my fist was so satisfying that I let fly with my other arm, and then the first again.

I didn't stop until I was sopping from exertion, the skin over my knuckles pulverized and the bones in my arms and shoulders ached. For minutes after I'd exhausted myself, I could still feel the force of each punch reverberating through my muscles, up the long bones of my arms and down my spine. Unclenching my right fist to push away the damp hair stuck to my forehead, I winced at the pain, but shrugged it off—it wasn't broken—and turned my attention towards surveying my opponent's condition.

A grim smile played on my face; it was satisfying that the log bore its own wounds from my brutal assault—a deep rent carved into the space between mine and Bella's customary seats—but it barely took the edge off my rage. I kept picturing what they could be doing at that moment, couldn't get all of the possibilities out of my mind, different scenarios running through my head, tormenting me, some of them ending with her crying out his name in pleasure, and some in pain. I suddenly needed to get the fuck out of Forks; I didn't think I could get far enough away.

Still seething, I snatched up the blanket, and left the meadow.

Fueled by a rage I couldn't explain or contain, I made it back to the city in record time, heading straight to Charlotte's place because I didn't want to be alone with myself.

What a mistake that would turn out to be.

.

~∞Ѿ∞~

.

"I thought your mother was finally warming up to me when she invited me to dinner with your family, but she barely talked to me the entire time, and when she did she was so dismissive. I don't understand why she doesn't like me, Edward. I've gone out of my way to make her like me, but that's obviously never going to happen."

"Char, she likes you just fine. I've told you, it takes her a while to warm up to people sometimes."

"Right. She virtually ignored everything I said, but she doted on _Isabella._ It was like I wasn't even there."

"What was she supposed to do, ignore Bella just to make you feel comfortable? She hasn't seen Bella for over a year, and it was _her_ welcome home dinner, after all."

"What's up with that, anyway? She runs off without a word, no one hears from her for ages, and they all just welcome her back with open arms like it doesn't matter. Meanwhile, here I am trying my damndest to earn their acceptance, and they barely give me the time of day!"

I didn't like her snide, judgmental tone.

"She's practically like a daughter to them; they've forgiven me for far worse than that over the years, and it isn't as if she didn't have valid reasons for leaving. Get over it already, Char; it has nothing to do with you. I don't understand why you care so much about what they think of you."

"Because they're your family, Edward! They're important to you, and I don't have a chance in hell if they won't accept me," she finished tearfully, her tears only serving to piss me off even further.

I wanted to tell her that she didn't stand a chance in hell with me regardless of my family's acceptance, but I couldn't—I _was _with her now, after all…_barely, sort of_…and, anyway, I couldn't find it in me to be that cruel. Char had been there for me when no one else, not even my own family, had. However, I couldn't manage to curb my inner asshole entirely.

We'd been having the same conversation since practically the moment I'd walked in the door—going straight to the kitchen and grabbing a beer—and I was done with it. I was sick to death of repeating myself.

…_chasing over the same old ground, what have we found, the same old fears_...

And I was bone weary of having to pretend to care.

…_I know your life is empty, and you hate to face this world alone_…

For some unexplainable reason, her words from the night before, about me being sweet and attentive when we were in bed, were playing on repeat in my head and something about them wasn't sitting well with me. I wasn't sweet and attentive. I was barely present, mechanical, numbly making sure that she got off so that by the time I was inside of her, she wouldn't notice the way I closed my eyes and gritted my teeth until I was finished.

…_so you're searching for an angel, someone who can make you whole_…

Just wanting her to shut up, I pulled her to me—more forcefully than I normally would—and kissed her. It was a cheap tactic, using sex as a distraction, but I was angry and everything from the past two days was swirling around in the vortex that had become my mind: Bella, hickeys, Jake, kissing, Bella, me, kissing, groping, so hard, so warm, pulling away, leaving, wanting, needing, aching, anger, anger, angry… Adding insult to injury, playing over it all like some fucked up soundtrack, was Char's too-sweet voice…_when we're naked and in bed together, you're sweet and attentive…_

A switch flipped. I turned into someone else, someone only Bella had ever brought out in me, and apparently still could. _I'll show her,_ I thought, as I tossed Char onto the kitchen table. Whether I was referring to Bella or Char, I couldn't say.

…_but I am not your savior, I am just as fucked as you_…

.

~∞Ѿ∞~

.

Plain and simple, I fucked her—hard; there was nothing else you could label it, calling it sex was too tame, and we most certainly did not make love…_not that we ever had._ The times we had been together before then, there had been at least the pretense of tenderness and even some small amount of affection. I'd always kept myself in check; coming, but not really finding release because, unlike with Bella, I couldn't let my guard down and be myself, and unlike all those nameless, faceless girls, I couldn't just use her.

None of those inhibiting factors were in play as I took her on her kitchen table, pounding into her mercilessly, relentlessly. I was all blind need and hard cock, completely lost to the driving need to come and hardly aware of the woman I was fucking. I'd like to think that had Charlotte told me to stop, I would have been present enough to have acknowledged her, but I can't say with any certainty that would have been the case because not once did I make eye contact with her or even look at her face. Hell, I'm not sure if I actually kissed her once I was buried balls deep in her wet warmth. In any case, Charlotte never once protested, so I'll never know.

Afterwards, both of us spent, I slumped over her prone body trying to catch my breath, one hand still pinning hers to the table above her head. Guilt and shame over what I'd just done descended like a guillotine, the blade drawing nearer to my throat each breath closer I drew to my body calming. Pressing my face into the crook of her neck, hiding, I felt her slowing pulse and tried in vain to force mine to follow suit. Instead, by the time her breathing had evened out, my breaths were nearly as frantic as they had been when we'd finished.

"_What_ was that, Edward?" Charlotte demanded in a strange tone, causing the guillotine to finish its descent toward my bared neck.

"I…_fuck!_ I don't…I'm so…" I sputtered, trying to spring away from her, but finding myself trapped by her legs and the one arm she'd managed to wrest away from me; I released her other wrist, certain I had to be hurting her. Taking a risk—not sure what I would find—I lifted my head, wild, panicked eyes darting over her body, making a hasty perusal of all the flesh I could see as I asked, "Are you – are you… Did I hurt you? I didn't mean to be so rough. I don't know what came over me." _Liar_.

Any further rambling from me, was prevented when Charlotte giggled. I froze. "No, silly. Calm down, Edward; I'm fine. It was just – different…I liked it." _Huh._ "I mean, I like what we usually do, and I don't think I would like this all the time, but…every now and then, yeah?"

_I would never understand girls. _I'd just fucked her without even acknowledging her—I'd used her to get my rocks off and ease my tension—and she…_liked it_? _What the hell, man?_

"Uh…yeah. Okay," I found myself saying. "Duly noted."

…_my life has been a nightmare, my soul is fractured to the bone_…

Had I been paying any attention, I wouldn't have been so surprised by her reaction. While I was freaking out, Char was clutching me to her, her arms wrapped around my shoulders and her fingers combing through the damp hair at the base of my neck in what was supposed to be a soothing manner, but was, in actuality, smothering; I felt trapped, in so many ways.

That she was comforting me after what I'd just done—using her body to exercise my demons, fucking her with no regard for her person or enjoyment and while thinking of someone else—made the level of shame I was feeling skyrocket. Charlotte may not have been the one I wanted, but I'd never acted like that. It should have come as a relief that she was seemingly still oblivious to it, but it wasn't; I was choking and had to get out of there. I'd had no business going there in the first place.

…_and if I must be lonely, I think I'd rather be alone, I think I'd rather be alone_…

The excuse of needing to dispose of the condom hiding the fact that I just needed to get away from her, I pushed myself up and off of her, Charlotte whining as I did so, not ready to lose the connection of our bodies, the false sense it gave her of a deeper, emotional connection that just didn't exist.

Char remained sprawled across the table, eyes closed and a small smile of contentment on her face while I gathered up our scattered clothing, hastily dressing myself along the way. After a minute or two, when I still hadn't returned to her, Char lifted her head up, seeking me out.

"What are you doing, baby? Come back over here, don't get dressed yet."

"I should get going. I have shit to do still, and I have an early day tomorrow."

She was sitting up fully now, not bothering to cover her body, and I averted my eyes, fiddled with my belt, set her clothes beside her on the table before bending down to tie my shoes. I was an ass, maybe Bella knew what she was doing by not giving me another chance; I was unredeemable.

"You can't stay? Are you sure?" she questioned, a slight pout on her face.

…_you can not save me, you can't even save yourself_…

"I would, but I just really need to take care of some things at home. I'm sorry."

"Well, I could come with you, help you out so you finish faster…if you want?" _If you want me,_ she was really saying. "We never spend time at your place."

"Not today, Char. I'm not even going straight home. I've got a ton of errands to run first, and then I really need to get some sleep before my shift. Next time, okay?"

"Okay, fine—next time," she said, her mouth set in a grim line, not meeting my eyes, not that I was trying that hard to meet hers. I needed to get the fuck out of there while I could still breathe.

"I'll call you, okay?" I said, already on my way out the door, not even kissing her goodbye.

"Sure…bye." Her voice was weak, full of dejection and a little bit of shame.

I briefly thought about turning around and making the whole thing feel less sordid—make her feel less like a whore who'd been used—by kissing her goodbye, but I didn't have it in me to do it; I was already gone.…_I can not save you, I can't even save myself, so just save yourself_…

.

~∞Ѿ∞~

* * *

**Songs Used  
**(In Order of Appearance):  
_So Much to Say,_ Dave Matthews Band  
_Angels of the Silences, _Counting Crows  
_Wish You Were Here,_ Pink Floyd  
_Save Yourself,_ Stabbing Westward

**Notes:  
**We're getting there. Sure, I could have Bella just break up with Jake and then ruin Edward and Char's apparently (from Bella's perspective) stable and happy relationship, but that would be incredibly OOC for the character. Things are slowly starting to unravel now, I just need you all to have a little patience as I set it up.

**Rec's (I have not, despite how it looks, been doing that much reading—my inbox is overflowing with updates I have not gotten to, and some of these I just haven't had the chance to rec yet):  
**_A Quiet Fire _by Magnolia822  
_Young Pilgrims_ by ineedyoursway  
_Dangling_ by IcelandGirl812  
_Under the Same Moon_ by GreenEyedGirl17  
_Sleep Talk_ by newlovenewhate  
_Unconventional_ by DazzlinSparkle05  
_The Ace of Spades_ by M81170  
_An Undefined Affair _by jayhawkbb  
_Breaking Bella _by lo scrittore  
_Pressed For Time_ by Chele681


	11. Chapter 11 Do What You Have to Do

**Disclaimer: **S. Meyer owns all recognizable characters, plots, etc. Only original content, characters, etc. belongs to author. No copyright infringement intended. Any errors contained herein, are expressly the fault of the authors idiocy, and not her betas.

**Word Count:**

**A/N: **Okay, well...I just have to say, I feel somewhat bad for rec'ing a fic that was apparently plagiarized. Even though it has nothing to do with—I didn't even know that this was the case until I received your reviews for the last chapter; I thought it had been a while since the last update—I still feel like I should apologize. Moving on.

I can't express enough my appreciation to V for betaing, and Char for helping me get it right an keeping me on track, but I will never stop trying.

This update is both later and earlier than I intended. Later because I didn't think it would take me this long to write, and earlier because my goal was to have it out no later than my birthday. I'm a few days early, so...go, me!

Thanks to all of you for reading and reviewing. Enjoy.

* * *

**Chapter 11 – Do What You Have to Do**

* * *

_What ravages of spirit conjured this temptuous rage,  
Created you a monster broken by the rules of love_…

…_and I have the sense to recognize that I don't know how to let you go  
Every moment marked with apparitions of your soul  
I'm ever swiftly moving trying to escape this desire  
the yearning to be near you, I do what I have to do_…

…_a glowing ember burning hot, burning slow  
Deep within I'm shaken by the violence of existing for only you_

I know I can't be with you, I do what I have to do

…  
…_and I have sense to recognize I don't know how to let you go_…  
- Sarah McLachlan

~∞Ѿ∞~

.

_What the fuck did I just do?_ _Bad, Bella! Very, very bad, Bella!_

It should have never happened. What the fuck was wrong with me? I was with Jake; I couldn't go around kissing and dry-humping Edward Cullen against trees in the middle of the woods. _How_ in the fuck had that happened, anyway? One second we were fighting, and the next…the next we were grinding against each other like our lives depended on it while trying to swallow each other's faces. I chuckled silently at the sudden image that came to mind, and then scolded myself because I shouldn't be laughing at a time like that. And because there was nothing funny about what had happened.

For a moment, I was transported back in time. Different tree, different circumstances, and _completely _different outcome, but we'd been there before.

Still, it should _never_ have happened.

Either time.

.

~∞Ѿ∞~

.

I stared after him as he stormed off, and then sat there for several long minutes, speechless and numb, and still staring in the direction he had gone. And then, I got mad, righteously indignant. _What the fuck did that mean _– both_ of us haven't? How cocky can one man possibly be?_ I wondered to myself. _Well, fuck him!_

He was wrong. I'd moved on. I was over it. Over him. How dare he insinuate that I wasn't and then just walk away? Our conversation was _so _not over; he does _not_ get to have the last Goddamn word every Goddamn time. Before I knew it, I was on my feet, chasing after him through the woods. He'd made it quite a ways in the nearly ten minutes I'd sat fuming in our meadow, but anger loaned me an agility and fleetness that I didn't normally possess, and I managed to cover quite a bit of ground.

I was sweaty and panting when I finally caught up to him, but at least I'd caught him before he'd left the seclusion of the woods. When I saw him, I didn't even think before I tore into him, taking out months of anger and doubt—at him, at me, at the situation—on him, like he was my personal whipping boy.

"What the fuck was that supposed to mean, Cullen?" I spat at his back, ignoring the defeat that rolled off him when he stopped, his already-slumped shoulders drooping even more.

"What was _what _supposed to mean, Bella?" he inquired tiredly.

Not even his dead-sounding voice and use of my first name could stop me—I was like a runaway train, only there was no Denzel to save the day. Instead, it fueled my rage; he wasn't playing by our established rules. (It may have been a few years, but neither of us had forgotten what they were…and we both knew it.) He still hadn't turned to face me, and something about it infuriated me. All of the feelings I'd been bottling up for who knows how long, began to rise like bubbles towards the lid that was my self-control.

I was aware how irrationally I was behaving—twisting his words to justify my long-ago assumed position that he was the one in the wrong, not me—but I couldn't seem to turn off the crazy. Getting angry was so much easier than admitting my role in the fucked-up situation we were in, or that Edward still wanted me, and I him.

_No, that I loved him and he thought he did, _I reminded myself. I couldn't be allowed to even _fathom_ the possibility that Edward Cullen could really love me. I barely survived the first round of heartbreak, and I hadn't been under the delusion that he loved me; if I let myself think he loved me, there was no way I would survive a second round when he changed his mind. Besides, even if it were plausible, it just wasn't possible; Edward _didn't_ fall for girls.

_Well, I guess that wasn't true any longer_, I corrected, thinking of the blonde Doctor Girlfriend that had shown up at dinner. He had to love her, because that's the only way I could ever see some girl getting the title 'Girlfriend'. It wasn't something he _didn't_ do; it was just something he'd _never _done—obviously, um…hi, exhibit A, right here. Or, maybe…it was only something he didn't do with me. I shook my head. That was a path I didn't want to go down, and anyway, he was waiting for me to answer his question.

"You – implying that I haven't moved on because, for your information, I have and I'm _very_ happy—the happiest I've ever been—so fuck you, you arrogant, cocky asshole!" I advanced on him as I shouted, jabbing his chest with two fingers every word or three for emphasis. With each poke, he retreated a step.

"You never really had me, anyway," I finished, my cheeks flushed with cold and self-righteous anger. Gloating—smiling internally over getting the words out, for not allowing myself to be sucked into his orbit—the realization that I'd just made a mistake came too late.

.

~∞Ѿ∞~

.

He'd always been dangerous, but just a few minutes in Edward Cullen's presence found me in a position I never intended to be: my back against a tree and his lips pressed to mine. _Why had I chased him down, again? _ All of the diatribes against him, the cries to stop, to flee, being shouted by my head, ceased at the first brushing kiss. The weakness of my mind and my flighty, self-serving morals appalled me.

I shouldn't even have been there, shouldn't have gone traipsing off to the meadow when I had places to be, but everything had been happening so fast in the day and a half I'd been back, and it had started to become too much. I just…I needed a few minutes of peace. Just a few blessed moments with no one making any demands of me.

…_I guess I'm lying to myself, it's just you and no one else; Lord, I won't miss you, child_…

That's a lie. And why was I lying to myself after having already admitted why I'd gone to the meadow? I'd hoped…no, I'd _known_ that Edward would come. Why I'd wanted him to, and what I'd thought would happen when he did… Well, I had ideas, but I didn't have any real answers for either of those questions. At least, not answers I was ready to admit to, but regardless, I hadn't been expecting what _had_ happened. _Not entirely._ I mean, the things he'd said to me…the things he'd said to me had made my skin flush and heat roll through me, but it was wrong. _I shouldn't have done that, shouldn't have felt that_, I reminded myself, yet again, _not when I had Jake_.

…_you've been blotting out my mind, fooling on my time_…_  
_

And thank God, Jake had texted when he had. Otherwise, who knows how far…_far too far, for sure_…things would have gone?

…_no, I won't miss you, baby, yeah_…

Saying goodbye as tears pooled in my eyes, I'd rushed off so he wouldn't see me cry; he couldn't ever know how much walking away from him affected me. Now, stumbling my way half-blinded by the tears I refused to shed, towards the house—_towards Jake_—I tried to make sense of what had just happened. _Of how I'd _let _it happen. _I'd fucked up so badly in so many ways, and I didn't know what to do about it. So, not knowing how to act, I decided to simply pretend it hadn't happened.

What else could I do? I had just cheated on Jake, exactly as he'd feared I would, and I couldn't fucking tell him. Not a chance in hell; it would kill him, and he had enough on his plate as it was.

As awful as it sounded, I wasn't worried he would break up with me over it, because that wasn't who he was. Jake loved me too much to have self-preservation or clarity where I was concerned and, short of killing his father or something like that, could forgive me for anything. No, Jake would respond by being overly understanding, forgiving me like the good guy he was and then smothering me with attention, asking where we'd gone wrong, what he'd done to push me into another man's arms. _You're not him,_ the only response I could give, and I couldn't imagine saying those words to him.

Instead, I'd lie or—and this was more likely—I would avoid answering him altogether, placating him with guilt sex, food, and over-attentiveness. For months, attempting to make up for my stupid indiscretion, that would be the routine. Over time, I would grow bitter and angry, and start feeling suffocated even though I'd know I was doing it to myself. Eventually, I'd grow to resent him and start dodging him, which would only make _him_ the overly attentive one, which would get on my last nerve…and Jesus, can't a girl get a little time to herself!

_Whoa!_ I needed to back the fuck up for a minute, and take a fucking chill pill. My imagination was working overtime and had me jumping to all sorts of conclusions. Maybe it was just my paranoia, but I could actually see it all play out exactly like that, ending with a contemptuous breakup, and dread filled my stomach, a forgotten conversation from long ago, coming back to haunt me.

.

~∞Ѿ∞~

.

"_What's going on with you and that boy, Izzy?"_

_I rolled my eyes, not caring if she could see me or not because it was this new thing she was doing, having told me that Bella just didn't fit me _(thanks, Mother-dearest)_, Isabella was much too chichi (_her words, not mine_), but Izzy was just right. Personally, I thought it sounded vapid—Dizzy-Izzy—and that it rhymed too much with 'jizz'. I thought the real reason behind the moniker was that she didn't like being subjected to all of the 'aptly named' comments that were made every time I was introduced to anyone of the male persuasion; Renee never had been able to stomach not being the center of attention. But whatever, as annoying as it was, I just ignored it, refusing to allow her to get to me._

.

~∞Ѿ∞~

.

It had been spring break during my senior year of high school, the time I had been all but forced to go to Florida to work at…er, to attend-slash-host my mother's baby shower. As enticement, or perhaps just wanting another body to lug around trays of hors d'oeuvres and refresh drinks, she sent two tickets and told me to bring a friend. Instead of bringing a friend (because they had already made plans by the time Renee's last-minute 'invitation' arrived), I brought Edward. At Alice's insistence. And his own. At the time, I'd thought it meant something that Edward worried about me facing my mother alone. God, I had been so naïve.

.

~∞Ѿ∞~

.

_Renee was still staring at me, clearly waiting for a response. I was reluctant to answer, but knowing as I did that it would be far more damaging to allow her to draw her own conclusions, I had to. _

"_Nothing, Renee. We're just friends." _Friends that just fucked on your pool table less than twelve hours ago.

"_Just friends, huh?" she asked skeptically, cocking her head as she tried to read me. I played it cool. _

"_Just friends," I confirmed, rolling my eyes obviously as I feigned annoyance over her assumption, but inside I was slightly panicking, concerned that we weren't being nearly as discreet as I'd thought. Worried that if Renee had noticed something, Alice and the gang would, too—if they hadn't already—I wondered, "Why would you think we were more than that?"_

"The way he watches you – it's so …protective. Like he's about to throw himself in front of a bullet to save you or something." _A crease formed between her eyebrows as she struggled to put into words what she was thinking, and I held my breath, my stomach flipping just a little._ He really looked at me that way, _I wondered, thrilling a little at the thought. _

_The next second, though, my stomach dropped for another reason, as Renee abruptly brought me back to reality with just a shake of her head and a few sentences._

"_It's so…intense._ _Strange, really. I don't know. I'm most likely reading more into it than what's actually there. I mean, if you say you're just friends, I believe you. Besides, he really is far too attractive to settle down with…" _You. _The word echoed in the silence as she paused. "…anyone, just yet. Still, you can't say you haven't thought about being with him once or twice. Hell, I've thought about it more than a few times since your arrival." She said the last part conspiratorially, with a little giggle and waggle of her eyebrows, and it took all I had to not huff in annoyance, and hide the revulsion the thought of her and him together caused me._

"_We're just friends, Renee," I reaffirmed. Successful as I was at hiding my annoyance a moment before, I couldn't hide the hint of it or my disdain when I spoke. _

"_That's probably for the best, you know. Us Higginbotham women just aren't made for relationships, they never last. We're more of the 'love 'em and leave 'em' types – don't roll your eyes at me, Izzy. You'll learn one day what a waste of time it is, getting stars in your eyes over some pretty boy. I'm telling you this for your own good; it's better that you don't get your hopes up, especially over someone like him."_

_At first, I was appalled, unconsciously choosing to focus on how she—technically still a newlywed, her belly swollen with their first child—could say something like that? Shouldn't she be pro-love, considering? Did she even love Phil? However, a few seconds later, I was appalled for a different reason. It shouldn't have surprised me, my mother basically telling me not to expect to ever find love and, if I did, that it would never last, but somehow it did. _

_Still determined not to let her get to me, I brushed it off, telling her, "Good thing I'm a Swan then, huh?" _

_Leaving her with those words, I walked away to circulate amongst her shower guests, my tray of pigs-in-a-blanket, or some such rubbish, held high, just like my head. _

Ay, ay, a scratch, a scratch…

_I spent much of the afternoon trying to live up to the disaffected front I'd put on for my mother, but_ (…marry, 'tis enough…) _her words festered, infiltrating my mind and slowly poisoning it. When I couldn't take it any longer_ (Where is my page?), _I sought out the one thing I knew could make it all go away: Edward. _ (Go, villain, fetch a surgeon.) _Only, when I found him, I didn't feel better. _

_He was otherwise engaged, entertaining Renee's overly touchy-feely and botoxed 'friends'…_turns out the fountain of youth could be found in Florida, if you called and scheduled an appointment first…_and he didn't notice me slowly fading, withering as I was shown proof that what Renee had said was the truth._

_Through sheer force of will, I was able to keep the smile on my face, but behind it, I was gritting my teeth from the effort. I had to look away. I needed to get away, but I had nowhere to go. Pretending that Edward wasn't there, I focused on getting through the party. _

_I did okay for a while, but an awkward encounter that only brought further proof of the fact that I didn't matter—was unlovable—was my breaking point. I felt as if I were about to fade away into nothingness or blow away like ash. I looked around frantically for Edward, not caring what he was doing or with whom…_or whom he was doing_…because I needed him to center me…_by sticking it in my center…_before I just disappeared, but he was nowhere in sight. _

_Neither was his most persistent admirer, I noticed, and it made me want to scream. The whole day—no, the whole fucking trip—was like some sort of great big mind-fuck and this was the grand finale. Even though I didn't want to believe Renee's words, they were getting harder and harder to deny, evidence quickly stacking up in support of it. I wasn't sure how much more I could take before I made a scene, giving Renee the satisfaction I'd promised myself I would deny her. _

_I felt someone press against my back—no doubt yet another of Phil's drunken, perverted teammates attempting, in their own classless way, to woo me into their arms…or at the least a quick suck and fuck in the bathroom before their wives noticed they were missing—and I almost lost it. But before I freak out and make a scene, I was wrapped in _his _arms and _his_ scent, and I was overwhelmed by gratitude and relief. I collapsed against him, letting his arms hold me up because I just couldn't do it any longer. I still didn't know where he'd gone, what he'd been doing, or who he'd been with, but in the end, I still didn't care. _

_He pulled me to the side of the house, out of sight but still within earshot. While my mother opened up gifts for her new child—her only child as far as most of those in attendance knew, I'd discovered—a few feet from me, he made it all go away, he made me okay again, and I was able to through the rest of the day despite Renee's best efforts to break me. The next day we were on a plane back to Forks. I'd thanked him as we debarked, he'd nodded and we'd never spoken of it again. _

.

~∞Ѿ∞~

.

I had always thought that that if I could just get through my childhood, and then later, if I could get through any encounter or conversation with Renee without breaking, then I'd be okay, but I had been wrong. If I'd learned anything over the years, it was about the insidious nature of Renee's words; the way they would worm themselves deep into my psyche —try as I might to deny them, to bar them entrance. Once there, they would lie dormant for years, until one day, when I least expected it, they would attack, echoing in my head and turning me from the confident, young woman that I pretended to be and back into the little girl I was; worthless and unworthy.

Today was one of those days. Only, instead of allowing her to break me down, I used her words as motivation. I refused to allow Renee dominion over my life any longer. I was going to prove her wrong. Once upon a time, I'd wanted nothing more than for Edward to be the one I'd find love with, and Renee might have been right about him, but I wasn't that same naïve, desperate to be loved little girl any longer.

I could never have Edward, and I wouldn't let him ruin the best shot at love I had. If I just worked at it, stopped dwelling on what could have been and focused on my reality, the here and now, Jake and I could be happy, we could have a chance at the bright future Renee said I'd never have. Jake and I were going to be fine, _everything_ would be fine because nothing happened_. Absolutely nothing happened. _

I repeated the lie in my head like a mantra the rest of the way back to the house and then all the way to Jake's, hoping if I said it enough, I could convince myself it was true since I was still a shitty liar. I was so lost in reciting my self-assigned Act of Denial…_O my Reality, I am heartily sorry for having to abandon Thee, I detest that you no longer conform to what I need to believe__, but I am weak_…that I startled when my phone buzzed in my pocket, stumbling and nearly falling over a stray…_something_ in the middle of the trail.

I didn't have to look to know it was Jake, and I felt the annoyance I thought I'd pushed aside spike. He was acting like the world's biggest fucking nag. What was he, my fucking keeper? My father? I was dreading the fifth degree I already knew I would be receiving when I arrived, and I started to reconsider going. _Hah! Yeah, 'cause that would go over _real_ well_.

If I thought the interrogation I was going to receive just for being a little late was bad, then the one I was sure to be given if I bailed on him entirely would be excruciating. _It wasn't as if I was even that late, for fuck's sake!_ I stomped my feet as I silently shouted the thought, a frustrated growl rumbling from the back of my throat. I suddenly realized how ridiculous I was behaving—like a Goddamned spoiled teenager…possibly a toddler. Now, at twenty-five, when I hadn't behaved that way _as_ a teenager...or as a toddler.

And furthermore, where did I get off acting like such a cunt (that's right, I said the _c-word_; I meant it, too) over my boyfriend's text interrupting me from dry-humping my ex…ex…_fuck?_ My behavior was irrational, nonsensical, entirely unwarranted, and it needed to stop. The more I thought about it, the more I realized just how long I'd been acting in such a way, and that Jake had done nothing to deserve such treatment. He was my boyfriend and he was going through a difficult time; he needed my love and support, not my scorn and derision.

Another buzz from my phone reminded me that I had yet to reply to my warden, er…I meant boyfriend. _What? It's hard to change ingrained behaviors on a whim, and so much easier to project your self-loathing onto others._ I sighed and pulled it from my pocket, nearly dropping it when I saw what time it was. It was after ten. I could have sworn I had only left the house an hour or so ago, but more than two hours had passed. Fuck, Jake was going to be pissed, and I honestly couldn't blame him…especially considering what I'd been doing while I was supposed to be spending promised time with him…_not that he would ever know._

I groaned and increased my pace as I quickly jotted out a response, knowing that I was taking my life into my hands by not paying attention while I practically jogged down the overgrown path. I could only hope that I wouldn't end up with a mouthful of dirt for my efforts. _Oh, the things we do for love._ Miraculously, I managed to get my text sent without taking a nosedive.

_Sorry, got busy catching up with Alice's parents and time got away from me. Leaving now. Be there shortly. Xoxo, Bella_

.

~∞Ѿ∞~

.

"No, Jake, I'm not going to suck your dick since we can't have sex!" I'd lied, saying I was about to start my period in order to get out of having to fool around like I knew he'd want to. I just couldn't go there with him after what had almost happened with Edward…to say nothing of what _had_ happened…er, not that anything happened.

"Jesus Christ, is that all you think about? Way to make a girl feel special, Jake. I feel like we have this same conversation all the fucking time! All you ever want to do with me is fuck." He started to say something, but wisely shut up when he saw the look on my face.

"I'm leaving. I have a long drive ahead of me, and I really don't feel like talking to you right now," I informed him as I crossed the room to stand in front of the mirror over his dresser, righting the clothing that had been disturbed by his pawing. Guilt was eating me up inside, and after what _hadn't _happened that morning, I was finding it harder than usual to maintain my self-righteous, indignant front. _God, I was such a catch. No wonder I couldn't keep Edward. What in the world did Jake see in me?_

I'd been relieved when I'd found Billy home, so certain I'd been that Jake would have found a way to get rid of him for the day so we could play. (Oh, jeeze, I'm a poet and didn't fucking know it. Cue the eye roll.) We'd hung out with him for a while, just chatting about this and that—I really liked the guy, and could easily see why Charlie and him had been friends for so long, his gregarious nature the perfect compliment to Charlie's quiet, taciturn one—but after a while, he'd unexpectedly announced that he was leaving. Jake couldn't have been happier.

His friend Harry was picking him up for a conveniently-scheduled meeting of the tribal elders. I wondered if he and Jake had planned it, conspiring together to get his son laid, but the thought made me cringe, so I dismissed it.

Sure enough, the second the door had shut behind his father, Jake had pounced, hands and lips all over me while his words reminded me of the promises I'd made the night before. Promises that I just couldn't keep now. I'm not sure how we ended up in his room. I was too busy fending off his wandering hands. It was there that I'd refused and, naturally, my refusal had started a fight because, "…it's been so long, baby. Don't you miss me like I missed you?"

"No, _baby_ – I missed _you_, not the sex. Jesus, I just can't do this right now."

"Fucking Christ, Bella! It's been months; I would think you'd be a little bit more eager to reconnect. But, no – you keep acting like it's such an imposition, and what am I supposed to think about that?"

"I don't know, Jake! Think whatever the hell you want, but keep it to yourself, because this," I gestured between the two of us, "this fight, we're not doing it, not now. We're both pissed off and clearly not thinking with our…" my eyes flitted down to his obvious hard-on, and I started over, "Well, we're just not thinking rationally. One of us is going to say something they don't mean, and someone is going to get hurt. Let's just…not, okay?"

He nodded, albeit reluctantly, but still…it was acceptance.

"I'm going back to Seattle. I'll talk to you soon."

"Fine."

Thinking he was done, I started to walk away, only to be stopped by his voice. "Bella! Wait, please! I just…I… Well, I just want you to know that I _do_ love you, and I did miss you – all of you. Don't go yet. I promise to stop being a dick…and to stop thinking with it." He smirked at me, but it was unsure and almost questioning, and my heart clenched a little. I hated hurting him.

Ultimately, it was the hesitance in his voice that disarmed me, causing me to pause. I turned and went to him, unable to leave things like that, with him aching and hurt. My lips met his—soft, timid, and sweet—once, twice, three times, before growing bolder. Somewhere, in the back of my mind, was the faint register of shock that I wasn't shying away from the physical contact—that I'd initiated it—but I didn't dwell on it; we needed this—_he _needed this—so I went with it.

There was no driving lust on my part, or overwhelming desire, just a need to comfort, seek a connection. Eventually, our kisses slowed and Jake just held me against him for several minutes before he pulled me to his bed, sat beside me with his arm around me, and we talked, stealing occasional kisses throughout.

.

~∞Ѿ∞~

.

When I finally left Jake late that afternoon, I felt better about us. We worked some things out, deciding how we were going to make it work with me in Seattle and him in La Push, discussed his insecurities, my apparent insensitivity and tendency to freeze him out…

It wasn't always a pleasant conversation, but it was a necessary one. I didn't delude myself into thinking it would magically fix our problems—that would require communication and hard work on both our parts—but I thought we were well on our way, and it felt good. I felt happy. For the most part.

The next three weeks passed in a blur. I kept myself as busy as possible, trying to keep thoughts of _him_ at bay. _ I was back to refusing to invoke his name, afraid he'd appear if I said or even thought it._ I studied, ran various wedding errands, looked at apartment after apartment, went to both of the interviews I had scheduled while still in New York (I was offered the job as a junior editor at Bennett & Hastings Publishing pending the successful completion of my orals), and spent time with Jake and Charlie whenever I could. Sometimes I would drive out there, others they would come to the city but, more often than not, we'd meet in the middle, usually in Discovery Bay.

Much to my surprise, considering I was living with his sister, it was easy to pretend Edward didn't exist…at least, it should have been. He never came over, never called, and no one ever mentioned him in my presence. While it was a relief not to have him constantly shoved down my throat or always in front of me—no puns intended—it was also strangely unsettling. The longer I went without being presented evidence of his existence, the edgier and more keyed-up I grew.

I could only surmise that my ratcheting nervousness was caused by constantly waiting for Hurricane Edward to show up, bringing the stormy disruption to my life that only he could cause. However, I needn't have worried; I should have known that my run of luck wouldn't last forever. It never did.

.

~∞Ѿ∞~

.

I slammed my fist against the steering wheel, experiencing a _minor_ bout of road rage. _Totally warranted and justifiable, of course._

"_Oh, you stupid, fucking cock-sucking asshole! Fuck!" _I screamed at the jackass who had just cut me off, causing me to slam on my brakes and nearly be rear-ended by the car behind me. Just for good measure, I flipped the douche the bird and laid on my horn. _All the better to properly convey my extreme displeasure, as well as assure it had been noted._

I was running late to meet Rose and Alice for a dress fitting, and they were going to kill me, I just wasn't sure which of them would attack first. With any luck, they would be too distracted by their battle for wedding planning dominance to dwell on my tardiness. Ever since Rose had assumed the planning responsibilities formerly held by Alice, the two of them had been passive-aggressively at each other's throats over which of them was better at it. Surprisingly, Rose had taken to it really well, but even more shocking was the fact that Alice had willingly acquiesced to being second in command. Not without a healthy amount of 'I wouldn't do it that way if I was you' and 'it's your wedding', of course, but overall, she was being quite gracious about it.

Aside from choosing the bridesmaid dresses—because Rose had no choice in the matter if she wanted to be live to be married; Alice wasn't about to suffer the indignity of wearing a less than spectacular dress—and giving her opinion, unsolicited or not, Alice wasn't calling the shots any longer.

Wrong choice. Before my first day experiencing Rose at the helm had even finished, I was wishing Alice were still in charge. Yes, she had some obsessive-compulsive tendencies when it came to planning events, but Rose put her micro-managing skills to shame. If Alice was the party-planning Nazi, then Rose was the Hitler of weddings. They definitely needed a new word for her; 'bridezilla' wasn't nearly strong enough. She made the owner of the limousine company—a forty-year-old man originally from the _Bronx_—, Geno had been convinced not to quit (Alice was amazing), even offering a discount as long as he didn't have to deal with Rose.

It goes without saying that Emmett had since been put in charge of all wedding transportation. I wasn't sure that was the best idea considering his general absentmindedness, but his hopes for getting laid on his honeymoon—or ever again, really—were riding on it, so everyone would be picked up at the right times and taken to the proper places without mishap. Probably.

I was only five minutes late when I finally found the address I had been texted earlier that afternoon, but by the time I found parking—nearly two blocks away—I was closer to _twenty_-five minutes late. My in-box was blowing up with texts from both Alice and Rose, so the moment I was parked, I yanked the keys out of the ignition and jumped out of the car. I hauled ass towards the shop to face their wrath, attempting to send Alice a text letting her know I was almost there as I ran.

Too busy compiling a list of excuses to pay attention to where I was going—_got a flat tire, accident on the bridge (_Which one?_ The floating one, Alice.), got pulled over…had to save a busload of children_—I slammed, for the millionth time in my life, headfirst into a very firm, very male chest and ricocheted toward the ground. Making a rescue attempt, the Good Samaritan grabbed for me…just a moment…too…late… I was past the point of no return, my fall inevitable, but his hands had already latched onto me and he was pulled into the black hole of my clumsiness, overbalancing and tumbling with me.

Despite having gone out of his way to rescue me from my own clumsiness _after_ I'd ploughed into him, only to be knocked down for his efforts, my would-be-hero still tried to save me. He turned us mid-air so that he landed on his back beneath me, taking the brunt of the impact and proving that chivalry wasn't dead. Sprawled awkwardly on top of him—half straddling his waist, legs akimbo, and one elbow jabbing his kidneys, causing him to grunt—I froze in horror with my eyes firmly closed, too embarrassed to look at him or even chance a glance.

I could hear that a small crowd had gathered to gawk, and it only deepened my mortification. My eyes involuntarily squeezed even more tightly shut. _If I can't see them, they can't see me…right?_ Fuck, no. It hadn't been true when I was five, so there was no way in hell it was true now. _Move it along, people, _I found myself ordering, trying to convey the command telepathically, _show's over; nothing to see here._ It didn't work. E.S.P. I did not seem to have…_but apparently, into Yoda I _had _turned. _Not that it was a big a surprise to me, I'd suspected as much for years, but it would have been nice.

Mentally shaking my head since my muscles still refused to obey, I shifted my attention back to the situation at hand, wishing immediately that I hadn't as I realized that I'd been lying on top of him for just a beat—give or take a minute—too long to be considered acceptable. If possible, I stiffened further, but still made no move to…well, move.

I didn't have to look, but I knew I had to act soon, so I took a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart and ease the flow of adrenaline still pumping through my system. Intending to thank him or say something, I opened my mouth…but the words died on my lips as olfactory memory hit me hard.

_Edward. Shit._

I was going to kill Alice—possibly Rose, too, but definitely Alice; Rose would have almost certainly told me had she known Edward would be there. _I think. I'm pretty sure. She would have, wouldn't she?_

_Shit. Shitshitshitshit…shit. What do I do?_

"Bella – as much as I like having your body pressed against mine, we really have to stop meeting this way."

As if I'd just been doused with bucket of ice water, his voice shocked me into action. My muscles sprang back to life all at once, all spastically, sending me flailing every which way as I scrambled to remove myself from his prone form. Getting nowhere fast, I finally just threw myself to the side before scrambling to my hands and knees, and then to my feet. It wasn't until after my demonstration of gracelessness personified that I remembered the lookie-loos, and gratitude rolled through me upon seeing that they had all but dispersed by then, having apparently lost interest in the lackluster spectacle we were offering. _Surely someone, somewhere, can provide us with more entertainment; perhaps a car crash at which we could gawk. _Jackasses.

"Well, maybe you should start watching where you're going, Cullen," I retorted…finally, snarling the words at him only after putting a safe distance between us.

Apparently, he found something amusing about what I said because he began to chuckle as he rolled to his knees and then got to his feet, groaning and '_oomphing_' a bit along the way, as well. My heart was doing double time and a frisson rippled through me, making my stomach jump into my chest, flip, and then drop all the way down to my toes before returning and settling all back in to its usual spot. It was the same feeling I used to get when I was little, sitting in the backseat of the car while Renee sped up and down a hilly road, except instead of settling quietly after the first thrill, my stomach fluttered wildly. It wasn't something I wanted, feeling that way every time I was near him, and I refused to let him know.

My emotions were locked up, my arms crossed over my chest, barring their way. The spark that only _his_ presence had ever ignited was obscured by my narrowed eyes, and the breathless excitement wanting to show itself with parted, upturned lips, was masked with a scowl and a look that clearly stated '_I'm_ _not amused_,' as I watched him rise. Standing to his full height, he rolled his shoulders, attempting to loosen his contused muscles, and a wince marred his pretty face. I cringed at the low sound of his hastily indrawn breath, my face falling, instantly contrite and completely abandoning the ice princess I was trying to convey.

"Shit, Edward," I bleated, hesitating for a moment, unable to decide whether to go to him or not. Ultimately, it was Edward running his hands through his hair and hissing as his fingers cautiously stroked down over the back of his head that decided it for me. I stumbled closer to him, concern written on my face, etched into the lines that appeared on my brow. "Are you okay? How much did I hurt you?"

And then, I was scolding him.

"Why didn't you just let nature take its course and let me fall? This is me we're talking about-you knew it was going to happen! But no, you had to go and try to be my hero, and look where that got you. Dammit, Edward, when will you learn that you're only going to get hurt when you try to rescue me?"

Hedidn't say a word or even acknowledge that he was listening, just shuddered as I moved around him, my hands trailing over him absently as I looked for any injuries.

"What were you thinking?" I continued to cluck at him repetitively, pausing every now and then to allow for responses I knew would never come…_I was just trying to be polite_. "It's not like it's the first time I've taken a spill, and we both know it's likely far from the last. What are you going to do, Cullen? Try to save me from them all? Not bloody likely."

"I'd never let you fall, not if I could help it," he declared softly, gazing down at me fiercely, trapping me with the intensity. I was caught off guard, totally unprepared to defend myself against him. My breath hitched and his words thundered through my ears. Nothing existed for me in that moment but him and me…_us._ It was cheesy and overwhelming and too much…

…_'cause it's you and me and all of the people with nothing to do, nothing to lose, and it's you and me and all other people, and I don't know why, I can't keep my eyes off of you_…_  
_

"Edward," I sighed as his hand lifted to my face, cupping my cheek. I leaned into his warm touch. There were so many things that needed to be said, all the truths that I'd been fighting since I'd fled all those months ago. The fears that I'd buried inside—but that, along with my stubbornness and inability to admit that I may have been wrong—still kept me from him. All my walls were crumbling with just one seemingly innocuous comment from him. Words and thoughts flooded my mouth, fighting to get out and creating a traffic jam in their haste.

…_I'm tripping on words, you've got my head spinning, I don't know where to go from here_…

My mind was all fogged over, deliciously drugged by him in exactly the same way it had always been, but this seemed heavier, more meaningful than any of our interactions in the past. His free hand cupped my other cheek so that he held my face between his palms, and then he oh-so-slowly lowered his face toward me, his eyes never breaking from mine. _He's going to kiss me,_ I realized with sudden clarity, my head curiously haze-free.

The frightened, angry, and self-righteous voice that I'd been listening to since the moment Emmett revealed Edward's involvement with Tanya was screaming at me to put a stop to this, to not give in to his black magic, but it was growing tinier and tinnier by the second—maybe millisecond. His lips were so close and I wanted them…_him_…so much, that I just couldn't bring myself to pull away.

I licked my suddenly-dry lips and held my breath as my eyes fluttered closed. I could feel his breath against my mouth, and then I felt…his forehead press against mine? _What the fuck? _The instant he settled against me, he released a shaky breath, almost sagging against me in relief as all the tension—the weight he'd been carrying that I hadn't even realized he _had _been carrying, until then—lifted.

It happened in a matter of seconds, but it took me several seconds more of wide-eyed confusion to even begin to process it, let alone comprehend it. Edward's eyes were closed, the softest, sweetest of smiles on his face, and in repose like that, he looked less like the Greek god I'd always thought him to be, and more like an angel, one of the _dominatio. _ The moment was so, so…_much_ that I could no longer find it in me to regret that he wasn't kissing me.

In the periphery of my conscious, the tinkle of a bell rang out over the sound of a door opening—the weather stripping along the bottom catching on the ridges as it slid across the threshold made a distinct sound—and just like that, the moment was over, dissipating like so much smoke. Edward tensed, his entire body going rigid, alerting me that our momentary idyll was over, and I snapped back to reality, my shields instantly going back up.

Without saying a single word and only making the barest of shifts, Edward managed to put the entire gulf of the Pacific Ocean between us and exude a coldness that hadn't been there just seconds before, but his eyes – his eyes were wide open, in more ways than one, the dark jade baring his soul and pleading with me. _Please don't leave me, don't close yourself off, don't shut us down. I'm still here with you; we just can't do this now. Not in front of her, not when we have obligations to others._

My eyes did some begging of their own, but my appeals were of a far different nature than his. _Please understand why I can't do this. I'm not trying to lead you on; I just got caught in the moment and, for a second, confused my past with my present. That shouldn't have happened. I'm sorry. _

"What's going on out here? Everything okay?" _Alice_. Her voice wary, questioning and concerned, and at the sound of it, I felt myself closing off to him a little more, that voice that had all but disappeared, coming in, loud and clear, in Dolby Digital Surround.

I took a step back and opened my mouth, prepared to say…_something_..._but what?_

"Bella happened," Edward answered for us, somehow managing to convey a wry amusement that doesn't match his face, while I'm still busy trying to fabricate a believable lie and a new mask behind which to hide. Luckily for me, Alice couldn't quite see me, yet.

To anyone who knew me less, his words wouldn't have made sense.

"Oh, yeah? How many did she take out this time?"

"Only two—herself and me. I gotta say though, I'd forgotten just how hard concrete is. With my Klutz-lympics teammate on the other side of the country, I haven't been practicing for the sidewalk events portion of the games; it's been a while since I've done a tandem reverse-belly-flop. I hate to admit it, but I think maybe I'm a little out of practice."

"Wow, admitting to not being good at something. Are you feeling okay? Sure you didn't injure something—like your head—when you hit the ground?"

"I said I was out of practice, I never said I wasn't good at it."

"Yeah, you're okay." I could hear her perk up before she zinged him with, "Maybe you're just getting old, y'know, and your body just can't bounce back from a hit the way it used to?"

"Alice, you do remember that you're the exact same age as me, right?"

"Nuh-uh, I'm younger."

"By a handful of minutes!"

"Yeah, so? That still makes me younger than you, dildo."

Their back and forth banter would normally have amused me—in the past, I might have even joined in—but just then, I was too caught up in observing the dichotomy of the two faces of Edward Cullen – how he was able to present two totally different selves to two separate people, simultaneously, so that they walked away with contradictory impressions.

I'd never understood how he had been able to participate in his arrangement with Tanya while carrying on with me as if nothing had changed, never wanting me less or fucking up more. Watching him lightheartedly joke with his sister—his body angled as if in the middle of turning to face her, giving the appearance of being in motion so that the she expects, at any moment, him to be facing her, but not moving and keeping his eyes on me—gave me insight into his duplicity. I still didn't understand how it was possible, it was so contrary to what I knew, I simply wasn't made that way. However, it did make it easier for me to pull completely away from him and re-fortify my ramparts; he couldn't be trusted.

My head was swimming with questions and thoughts of the games he could, and most likely was, trying to play, and I knew I had to stop the flow before I was swept away in the torrent. _Was this all some ploy so he could once again have his cake and eat it, too? Was he playing the same old game, the one he'd already fooled me with_…shame on me…_wanting to fuck me while involved with someone else. He couldn't honestly believe, after everything that had happened between us, that I would to fall into the same trap, especially not when he was clearly taken, could he?_

_Stop!_

Like ripping a Band-Aid off, I jerked myself away from his gaze and stepped around him. But, just as you can never pull one off fast enough for it to be entirely pain-free, I was unable to look away quickly enough to avoid seeing the emotion that washed over him. I simply pretended not to see the realization of failure strike him or his lack of surprise at it. I refused to acknowledge the exhaustion that seemed to overcome him, making him look older than his years, or the way his jaw set with grim acceptance as the light faded from his jaded jade eyes and then became empty.

"Ha, ha. You two just keep laughing at my expense, I'm going to go in and get fitted for whatever miserable excuse for a dress I'm going to be forced to wear. The things I do for my friends," I declared with a long-suffering sigh as I walked away from Edward and past Alice to enter the dress shop, hoping the entire time that my voice didn't sound as shaky as I felt. I refrained from making eye contact with Alice to find out if I succeeded, too afraid that I had failed.

The door closed behind me, no one else entering, and I began to worry, thinking up all of these random scenarios, all of them ending with me alone. Luckily, I wasn't given the chance to dwell on them. Rosalie swooped in almost before the door had closed, quickly herding me toward the back of the little shop.

"You, Isabella Swan, are late, and Suki has places to be. Now get in that dressing room, and strip," she ordered pushing me toward a tiny changing room in the corner, two sides of which comprised of a very thin curtain.

I hesitated, looking over my shoulder, trying to see Alice and Edward through the window of the door I'd entered, but the 'Open' sign blocked my view.

"Tick-tock, Bella, tick-tock. Could you please put a little 'giddy-up' in your step?" With one last glance at the front door, I allowed her to push me into what passed as the dressing room and pull the curtain closed around me. "Now, your dress is in the bag, shoes are on the floor, and there is a corset on the stool. Put them all on and then get your ass out here. Time's a wastin'."

"Ma'am, yes, ma'am!" I said, with a half-assed, mock-salute that I wasn't certain she couldn't see.

"Talking's not changing," Rose snapped back, giving Alice a run for her bossy little britches. However, recognizing her '_do not fuck with me or I will end you_' tone, I quickly set about my task, toeing off my shoes and then quickly slipping out of my clothes.

I had just managed to get myself into the corset when Rose's impatience got the best of her and, incidentally, me. She ripped open the curtain, huffing, "Aren't you finished yet? What could possibly be taking so long?"

At the exact same moment, the door's bell tolled, and I had a good idea for whom if the fine hair on my arms standing on end was any indication.

It was almost comical—at least, it would have been had it happened to anyone other than me. My head snapped up, lungs ceasing to function and eyes all deer-in-the-headlights wide as my hunch was proven right and Edward's face came into sight. He froze, one hand still on the door, the other stopped mid-swipe in his hair, and his jaw hanging loosely, mouth agape. The only part of him in motion were his eyes, running rapaciously over my barely and provocatively-clad form.

In my mind, I could see myself acting as I should—shrieking as I scrambled to hide behind curtain and then cursing both Rosalie _and _Edward out—while in reality, I did nothing but stare with what I am sure was a dumb expression on my face. I was too stunned to react, and the feel of his eyes roaming over my skin paired with the dumbstruck awe and lust in his eyes felt too good to deny. Even though I was mortified to be caught in such a state of undress, a small part of me basked in it, having missed being gazed at that way by him.

The fuckery only continued to worsen as Alice, just a couple steps behind Edward and fiddling with her phone, slammed into his statue-like form.

"Ouch! Edward, what the fu…?" Alice demanded, the question cutting off abruptly as she stepped out from behind him and took me in. Her eyes practically bugged out of her face, darting back and forth like a cartoon character between the Edward and Bella statuary decorating the room.

Finally, someone getting their wits about them while the rest of us continued to stand there with our heads up our asses, Rosalie snapped, "Oh, for fuck's sake, Edward, it's not like you haven't seen it before. Don't just stand there gawking – turn the fuck around! I know you're not one, but you could at least pretend to act like the gentleman Esme taught you to be."

Of course, she couldn't quit there, not without getting a barb in, but I chose to forgive her since it turned out to be just the impetus I needed to snap to attention.

"I doubt _Charlotte_ – You remember her, right? Your girlfriend?" she prompted, taunting him, " – would appreciate you gawking at a half-clothed girl, especially not when that chickie happens to be our dear Isabella."

Alice grabbed her brother by the arm, hissing lowly at him as she used it to physically turn him away from me, and he finally snapped out of his daze. I had just enough time to see him cover his eyes with both hands…_delayed reaction, much?_...while muttering his apologies and shaking his head, before Rose rounded on me and snapped. Literally. Twice. In quick succession and right in front of my face, her fingers practically grazing my nose.

"And why are you still standing there? Dress. On. Now." With that, she pushed me further into the 'dressing room' by my shoulders, and then snatched the curtains closed around me once again.

In a numbing daze, my ears ringing with feedback, I removed the dress from the garment bag it was hanging in and dressed myself as quickly as I could with shaky fingers. When I finally, hesitantly, re-emerged from behind the curtain, Edward was nowhere in sight. A twinge of disappointment pricked me—_I hadn't even heard the bell chime_. No one offered any information, and I couldn't exactly ask about him, so I was left to ponder it, my overactive imagination running away with me. It was just one more thing to add to the long list of things over which to chastise myself about later.

Although I tried to keep my head in the game, I spent the rest of my fitting lost in my thoughts, running entirely on autopilot—I couldn't even recall what the dress looked like, despite wearing it in front of a three-way mirror for thirty minutes. I was barely aware of anything until I was suddenly sitting behind the wheel of my car again, unsure of how I got there, and staring at my phone as I contemplated calling him. I didn't know what I was doing or why. All the warning bells that were sounding, the months I had spent wanting to hate him; all the attempts at convincing of myself that I was committed to Jake, the countless times I'd told myself that I loved him, Edward was no good and he was the one for me – it all felt like I was fighting fate or some shit.

_Oh, just grow a pair, Bella!_

Finally, I took a deep breath, and hit send.

* * *

**Songs Used  
**(In Order of Appearance):  
_Miss You_, The Rolling Stones  
_You and Me_, Lifehouse

**Chapter Notes:**  
1. _"The way he watches you- it's so …protective. Like he's about to throw himself in front of a bullet to save you or something."_ – Renee Dwyer, Chapter 3 of _Eclipse_

2. _Ay, ay, a scratch, a scratch; marry, 'tis enough. Where is my page? Go, villain, fetch a surgeon._ – Mercutio, Act III, Scene 1, _Romeo and Juliet_

3. Bella's Act of Denial is a play on the Catholic _Act of Contrition,_ a prayer said in association with confession, professing sorrow for sins committed. This is really an oversimplification, but really all you need to know for its use in this fic.

4. '…tinier and tinnier…' — (not a typo). **tin·ny **– adjective, -ni·er, -ni·est. 1. of or like tin. 2. containing tin

5. _dominatio _–the "Dominions," or the "Lordships" in the _De Coelesti Hierarchia, _are the first choir of the middle order of angels. They regulate the duties of lower angels, and also preside over nations. They rarely reveal themselves to humans, but they are believed to look like divinely beautiful humans with a pair of feathered wings, much like the common representation of angels, but they may be distinguished from other groups by wielding orbs of light fastened to the heads of their scepters or on the pommel of their swords.

**Rec's:  
**_The Caged Bird Sings, _suzie55  
_Cracks in the Pavement, _VampiresHaveLaws


	12. Chapter 12 Insensitive

** Disclaimer: **S. Meyer owns all recognizable characters, plots, etc. Only original content, characters, etc. belongs to author. No copyright infringement intended. Any errors contained herein, are expressly the fault of the authors idiocy, and not her betas.

**Word Count:** 8545

**A/N: **It's been awhile. Let's never stay apart for that long again. My fault entirely. Work, injuries, life, crippling writers block…they just get in the way sometimes. You all have the lovely RedVelvetHeaven to thank—or blame…kidding—for this chapter. She helped get me back on track, and kept me motivated while I virtually rewrote this entire chapter.

I'm still not entirely satisfied with this chapter, but that's my own issue. The story is still on track and you have her to thank for it. I also need to thank V, my super-beta, for the quick turn around and gentle nagging (_Sooooo, how's it coming with that chapter?_). Lol.

I'll let you get to it. Enjoy.

* * *

**Chapter 13 – Insensitive  
**

* * *

_How do you cool your lips,  
After a summer's kiss?  
How do you rid the sweat,  
After the body bliss?  
How do you turn your eyes,  
From the romantic glare?  
How do you block the sound  
Of a voice you'd know anywhere?_

Oh, I really should have known  
By the time you drove me home,  
By the vagueness in your eyes,  
Your casual good-byes,  
By the chill in your embrace,  
The expression on your face  
That told me maybe you might have  
Some advice to give on how to be…  
Insensitive…

_- _Jann Arden

Previously…

_In a numbing daze, my ears ringing with feedback, I removed the dress from the garment bag it was hanging in and dressed myself as quickly as I could with shaky fingers. When I finally, hesitantly, re-emerged from behind the curtain, Edward was nowhere in sight. A twinge of disappointment pricked me_—I hadn't even heard the bell chime. _No one offered any information, and I couldn't exactly ask about him, so I was left to ponder it, my overactive imagination running away with me. It was just one more thing to add to the long list of things over which to chastise myself about later._

_Although I tried to keep my head in the game, I spent the rest of my fitting lost in my thoughts, running entirely on autopilot—I couldn't even recall what the dress looked like, despite wearing it in front of a three-way mirror for thirty minutes. I was barely aware of anything until I was suddenly sitting behind the wheel of my car again, unsure of how I got there, and staring at my phone as I contemplated calling him. I didn't know what I was doing or why. All the warning bells sounding, the months I had spent wanting to hate him; all the attempts at convincing of myself that I was committed to Jake, the countless times I'd told myself that I loved him, Edward was no good and he was the one for me – it all felt like I was fighting fate or some shit._

Oh, just grow a pair, Bella!

_Finally, I took a deep breath, and hit send._

.

**~∞Ѿ∞~**

.

"Bella, are you there?" he questioned, his voice entirely unexpected.

_What the fuck? _

"_Jake?_" I returned, pulling the phone away from my ear and peering at the screen. Seeing his name but not comprehending why it was there, I just stared at my phone, more confused than ever.

I brought the phone back to my ear just in time to hear him say with a chuckle, "Who were you expecting, your bit of stuff on the side?"

I nearly choked on my own tongue, his joke hit much too close to home. Jesus, _I had only planned on calling him, not fucking him_. Okay, I hadn't _not_ been contemplating doing more than talking. _Funny, but you know what they say about sarcasm, it's the most honest form of humor…intentional or not._

Maybe I was wrong about fate—yet again. _Someone_ was certainly trying to tell me something, and I was trying to listen. It wasn't my fault if they had multiple personality disorder. Pushing thoughts of Edward to the back of my mind—_which was where they _had_ to stay_, I reminded myself for the eleventy millionth time—I devoted my whole attention to the boy whose love for me was tangible and had never given me cause for doubt. The boy whom I really did love, even if I sometimes forgot.

"Seriously, Jake, I'm a little disturbed by how many times you've watched that movie. I mean, _Sliding Doors_? Are you sure you're not a chick?"

"Positive, but if you'd like proof…well, I'd be more than happy to arrange a little demonstration for you," he offered in a low voice, so full of promise that I couldn't stop the small jolt of desire that shot through me.

"You're an insufferable tease, Jacob Black." Nor could I hide the trace of lust in my voice.

"I'm only a tease if I have no intention of following through."

"Yes, but unless it's an immediate demonstration…" I trailed off, letting it hang there.

"Who said it wouldn't be an immediate demonstration?"

"Where are you?" I questioned, narrowing my eyes in speculation.

"Right behind you."

"What?" I laughed, hoping to hide the pitchiness of my voice. _Had he seen me with Edward? Was he following me?_ Panicking, my eyes darted around wildly. "Haha, Jake. Very funny. Where are you really?"

"I'm really-really right behind you. Look in your rearview mirror."

I did, and there he was. The smile on his face calmed my nerves, allowing me to slide into the warmth of his presence and dismiss the worry of the moment before.

.

~∞Ѿ∞~

.

…_letting the days go by, let the water hold me down, letting the days go by, water flowing underground_…

Time flew by, but I wasn't having fun, per se. I wasn't miserable; I was…content? I had finally pulled my head out of the clouds, and settled with what I _could_ have. As time moved past me in a hurry, I allowed myself to be swept along with the current. It was nice; I didn't have to think too much, overanalyze. Sometimes, when I lay in bed at the end of the day, I found myself unable to recall exactly what I'd done all day.

…_and you may ask yourself, what is that beautiful house?_

It's not as if I was lost or anything; I knew exactly where I was going. My course had been set for so long, all the little pieces having fallen into place over the previous two years, that I felt perfectly justified in letting myself drift. The current seemed so strong; I didn't think there was much I could do to change my path.

…_and you may ask yourself, where does that highway go?_

On the surface, my life was exactly where it should be: I had the degree, the fabulous job, and had just found the perfect apartment. I had great friends and a doting boyfriend. My life was fantastic and, with the way everything was going, my future looked even brighter, but…

…._and you may ask yourself, am I right? Am I wrong?_

Every now and then, at the oddest moments, in a room full of people or when I was all alone, everything would feel wrong. Doubt would creep in, longing would consume me, _his_ face would fill my mind, and the certainty that I'd made a mistake would wash over me.

…_and you may tell yourself, MY GOD! WHAT HAVE I DONE?_

.

~∞Ѿ∞~

.

For the most part, it was easy to relax into my new life in the _real _world. All the years I had spent perfecting the art of avoidance were finally paying off and, so long as I didn't see him, it was simple to not torment myself with thoughts of him…of what could have been. I could go days without hearing his name, and ages without having to see him. _Out of sight, out of mind._

But as the wedding neared, my Edward-free days began to lessen until it seemed as if he was always there. We were thrown together so often—auditioning musicians, picking up wedding favors, interviewing caterers, sampling wedding cakes—that I started to wonder if there was some kind of conspiracy going on. _Yeah, 'cause a force-Edward-and-Bella-to-hang-out-together-so-that-they-make-everyone-uncomfortable conspiracy made sense. Ha! _

Just when I finally let go of my crackpot theory—reluctantly acknowledging that my reprieve's end was due to our roles in both the wedding and the bride and grooms lives—Rose came up with an all-new, _enjoyable_ task for me, and I began to think it wasn't so crackpot, after all. _What had I ever done to her to deserve this? _

.

~∞Ѿ∞~

.

"So," Rose started in a business-like tone, her head bobbing as her eyes ticked down the task list she was reviewing, "you and Edward need to get together and…" Rose started.

"Oh, hell no!" I rudely interjected, continuing on belligerently, "Nuh-uh. Nope!" My arms crossed over my chest and I shook my head, visually backing up the refusals that I continued to reiterate. "Not doing it."

Silence reigned for a too-long moment, causing me to tense in reaction—but still shaking my head—as I waited for her reaction. I ignored the compulsion to look at her, not wanting to give her the upper hand by showing any weakness. Through sheer willpower…_or plain stubbornness, you decide_…I kept my eyes trained on the floor. For like a second, until she let out a long-suffering sigh, and then my eyes snapped her way. _At least I managed to not cringe. Small victories…small victories. _

She stood there looking like a disappointed parent—one arm across her waist, supporting the elbow of the other, and her forehead resting in the palm of her hand.

"Bella…" Another overly-dramatic sigh that dragged out my name as if she were trying to summon up the patience to deal with a petulant child (furthering the disappointed parent impression) caused my chin to come up and a whine to slip past my lips.

"Rose… What do we need to get together for? I thought everything was already handled and we were just waiting for the big day? Whatever needs to be done, I'm sure it doesn't require both of us."

"Well, for the most part, yeah, everything's been taken care of, but there's still the matter of the bachelor and bachelorette parties," she informed me in that same annoyingly patronizing way, but as much as it set me on edge and made me realize how truly childish I was acting, it didn't lessen the whine in my voice.

"But I thought Alice already took care of the party bus rentals and everything? What more needs to be done?"

"Um, all of it. Attendance needs to be verified, you need to let everyone know where they are going to be picked up at, figure out where we're going to be stopping, and then coordinate when we're going to be meeting up with the guys." I stared at her blankly. "You do remember that we're all meeting up at the Alibi Room at the end of the night, don't you?"

_Um, no, I seem to have missed that little detail._

"Of course I do, but I still don't see how any of this necessitates that Edward and I meet up to discuss it. You're the boss! Pick the time that you want to be there, tell us, and we'll be there. Well, _I'll_ make sure that our group shows up; the guys are Edward's responsibility. See? Meeting with Edward? Unnecessary."

"Yeah, not happening, Bella. You guys need to hash this shit out."

For a second, I thought she was talking about something other than the festivities, and I snapped. "What the fuck is there to hash out?"

I had more to say, but she cut me off before I could…thank God. "The list of places Emmett and I want to hit are nearly identical, and neither of us want to accidentally run into each other before we're supposed to. You and Edward need to discuss that shit…I don't know, negotiate or divvy them up, whatever—to keep that from happening.

"Alice and I have taken care of all of the other details – sending out the invitations, securing the entertainment, renting the party buses, setting up the private party at Alibi – this is the only thing I'm asking you to do, so just do it and don't argue."

Thoroughly put in my place, but not happy about it, I agreed with a pout, and then sulked as she went over the rest of the wedding details with me. I wasn't sure exactly which ones, though; I wasn't really listening. She eventually left, but not without handing me a binder full of color-coded lists and meticulously detailed instructions on what she wanted for her party and the rest of my wedding responsibilities, and commanding me to call Edward.

I grunted my agreement, defiantly telling myself it was only so she would leave, but knowing that I would do everything she asked of me because I was nothing if not a good friend. _Oh, the things I do for my 'friends'._

.

~∞Ѿ∞~

.

Even though I was in no way settled into my new apartment—boxes (emptied, full or half-unpacked) still cluttered the rooms, framed photos leaned against the walls, and stray packing peanuts and bubble wrap littered the floors—we decided (in what I secretly thought was some—likely ill-advised and fated—attempt at reliving old times) to get ready for the evenings festivitiesat my new place.

By '_we_', I mean Alice and Rose decided.

And arrived ridiculously early.

_They really knew how to put the 'hell' in 'hello'. _

"It's open!" I shouted, my head in the fridge, scouring through the small but rapidly amassed collection of takeout boxes in my hunt for sustenance.

I'd already resigned myself to ordering in, not having found anything enticing, but I was still half-way inside my refrigerator perusing my on-hand options when the door opened and the clacking of high-heeled feet filled the room. _Noisy-ass bitches! _It sounded like a herd of whores entered instead of just two people.

"Hey, sluts! Jumping the gun a bit, aren't we? I know how you like to have plenty of time to primp, Ali, but this is early even by your standards," I greeted as I started to climb back out of my icebox. _Definitely ordering in._

Rose swept past me, a flurry of bags and hair and annoyance, heading towards the tiny kitchen table that I'd barely managed to fit against the far wall of the room. So low that I could barely make the words out above the rustling of her packages and the sound of her heel _tap-tap-tapping_, she hissed, "It wasn't me, so when you get your panties in a twist…"

Snapping upright, I turned, her pursed lips and raised brow causing mine to respectively scrunch and lift, but she didn't answer my silent questions. Instead, she offered me a tight smile that faded into a grimace as she looked past me and shook her head with subtle disgust. Her behavior was so out of character that I couldn't help but stare in contemplation but, knowing better than to pursue it at that moment, I decided to turn around and greet Alice.

A split second before I broke our connection, a look full of wary weariness and apology replaced her haughty and hardened one. The change in her demeanor was so drastic that I attempted to pause, but I was already mid-turn and only stumbled instead as my impetus propelled me along until I faced the living room when I finally stopped as if I'd hit a wall, gaping because it wasn't Alice's form that greeted me there.

Beneath the surface my mind whirled, simultaneously plotting all the various ways I was going to kill Alice Cullen and cataloging my ratty appearance: capri-length leggings, ratty, too-big Columbia sweatshirt, un-brushed hair piled into a messy ponytail on top of my head, make-up free and bleary-eyed. So not hot. I looked like a hobo.

Charlotte shifted uncomfortably under my slack-jawed scrutiny, causing my social skills—in all their awkward glory—to return. "Um…hi? Alice, you didn't tell me you were bringing a friend." My eyes never left Charlotte as I made my passive-aggressive accusation.

"Yeah, it was kind of last minute," Alice replied.

Sensing the tension in the room—because she'd have to be dead and buried not to—Charlotte spoke up. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have come. I told Alice I didn't want to intrude, but she insisted. I should probably just…" She trailed off, pointing over her shoulder at the door, indicating she should leave. I didn't feel inclined to stop her.

She looked all kinds of mortified and on the verge of tears as she turned back towards the door, briefly hesitating midway to hurl another apology. "I really am so sorry."

Arms rigid with clenched fists, Alice shot me a withering glare, her whole demeanor screaming, 'You are such a bitch. Don't let her leave like that!' A trace, like a ghosts breath, of remorse touched me, but I wasn't having it. I glared right back, challenging her even as I felt my resolve weakening. Alice held my gaze for less than a second, but when she saw I wasn't budging, she shook her head disgustedly, and rushed after Charlotte, stopping her just out of my view before she got to the door.

I couldn't make out the words, but the gentle susurrations of their murmured conversation and the occasional sniffle was enough for me to know that Alice was soothing her after I'd made her cry. _You should know, she's done the same for you enough times over the years, _my conscience snarked, but I tuned that bitch out. You'd think my _own _conscience could speak to me a little more respectfully. Regardless, I wasn't going to give in.

I'd be damned if I would apologize to the enemy, let alone allow her to get ready with me and my friends like she was one of the girls. Fuck that. _You know, it's not like she's done anything to hurt you on purpose. It's hardly her fault that Edward liked her enough to commit to her after just a few months when he didn't care about you enough to keep his dick in his pants after five years,_ said that annoying voice again. I tried blocking it out with thoughts of anything else, but it was turning out to be surprisingly persistent.

A struggle between my _need _to hate Charlotte the Innocent and my inherent empathy ensued. My needs lost. It wasn't Alice's disappointment in me, my empathy, or me trying to be the bigger person that caused my resolve to falter, though. In the end, the deciding factor was a conversation I'd had with Emmett a few days before.

.

~∞Ѿ∞~

.

"_Are you a fucking idiot, Emmett? And does Rose secretly hate me or something? I mean, what the fuck, man!" I shouted into the phone, pacing in the mostly empty living room of my new apartment. _

"_Hello to you, too, Baby-Bell," he sighed. "I suppose this means you've seen the new guest list for me and Rosie's last 'hoo-rah'." _

_It wasn't a question, which pleased me since us being on the same page would make things easier. "Just, but you didn't answer my question. Are you fucking stupid? Seriously, what the fuck were you and Rose thinking? You couldn't honestly think it was a good idea? I mean, Jesus, Emmett!"_

_Exasperation caused my tirade to degenerate into incoherent stuttering, until I finally gave up on speech. When I was silent, Emmett heaved a long sigh, before reluctantly speaking._

"_I love you, Bells, you know that—you're family—but you and Edward need to get the fuck over this shit already. We can't spend the rest of our lives tiptoeing around the two of you. You've both moved on, and that means your significant others are going to be a __part of our lives__, too; it would have been rude to not invite them."_

_I knew that the bullshit between Edward and me put everyone else in an uncomfortable and awkward position, none more so than his siblings, but most of the time it was easy for me to overlook. The wedding shoved it right in my face, and being reminded, once again, of how much they were all sacrificing and compromising because of us was…humbling. _To say the least._ Guilt licked at me, dulling my anger a bit and. _

_Feeling somewhat ashamed, I relented… "You're right, Emmett. I'm sorry." …a little. "But you do know that this is most likely going to blow up in your face, right?" _

"_Eh, probably, but better at our joint stag party than the wedding. I figure it's a trial run." he replied with his usual equanimity. "You know, Belly, I gotta say, for as much as you and Eddie claim to be over each other, you both spend an awful lot of time worrying about the other."_

"_That's… I… You…" Completely taken aback, I was unable to formulate a reply. Instead, I found myself sputtering and snorting in my eagerness to refute his claim. _

"_Well, I gotta go. Later, B," he announced, sounding mighty pleased with himself. _

_I stood there, all outrage and indignation, clutching the phone to my ear for several seconds—maybe minutes, who knows—before I finally found my voice to respond, belatedly blurting out, "Nuh-uh!" _

_My brilliant and witty rebuttal bounced off the walls of my empty apartment, sounding through no ones ears but my own because Emmett had already hung up. _An Ivy League education and that's the best you can come up with? Nice.

_Little earthquakes of indignation and rage rumbled through me, building upon each other until my whole body shook. _ How dare he? How fucking dare… Who the hell does he think he is? Sitting up in his tower all smug and judgey just because he found his soul mate at the age of fourteen. Fuck him!I was so over Edward! So, so, so, so, so over him.

_Even as I questioned his audacity in self-righteous disbelief, I felt a pin prick at the back of my mind, __allowing a tiny point__ of light to shine on my denial, illuminating it until the truth was revealed. I so, so, so wasn't over Edward Cullen…but it didn't matter. He wasn't mine to have (nor I his). _

.

~∞Ѿ∞~

.

Almost certain I would hate myself (and Emmett and Alice) for it, I reluctantly called out to Charlotte.

"Wait…" Hoarse and lacking conviction, the word trailed off as Alice popped out from behind the wall, beaming as if she'd just reunited North and South Korea, everything sunshine and kittens and rainbows in her delusional little world once more.

She gestured for me to continue, so I cleared my throat and tried again, only to choke on Charlotte's name. "Cha…" I coughed, "um, you can stay. I mean, you're already here, so…"

Alice glared at me. I glared back, and rolled my eyes for good measure, adding in a syrupy voice, "What I meant was, you're not intruding at all, and we'd be happy to have you stay."

Crossing my arms over my chest and pursing my lips, I shot Alice a pointed look. _There, happy now, bitch?_

"Are – are you sure?" she questioned skeptically, stepping hesitantly back into view. "Because I understand if you want me to go. I told Alice that this would be weird, but…well, you know Alice better than me so…you know how she can be."

Something tugged at me. I found myself wanting to like her, but I resisted the urge stubbornly. No way was I going to be friends with the girl that the guy I loved was in love with. _I mean, the guy I used to love. Past tense._ _Because I couldn't—wouldn't—love him any more._

While part of me saw the irrationality of my dislike—after all, she couldn't be held accountable for someone else's actions—the rest of me just couldn't see past what she represented. She was a physical reminder of my inadequacies and everything I wanted that I didn't have.

"No, really…it's fine," I said brusquely, closing the fridge and brushing past her and Alice. "Make yourself at home, Charlotte. Alice, why don't we go put your stuff in my room."

She said something to Charlotte and Rose that I couldn't make out since I had already marched into the hallway, and then followed behind me. The moment she was through my bedroom door, I slammed it behind her and pounced.

"What the fuck were you thinking, Alice?" I demanded, my voice a low growl. "I mean, seriously, bringing her here – are you really that cruel?"

"No." She sniffled, her bottom lip quivering, telling me she was on the verge of tears, but I couldn't find it in me to care.

"You must be, because why else would you bring her here. Jesus, Alice!" My hands buried in my hair, I paced the room trying to keep my temper in check; I didn't want to say something I would regret. _Surely Alice had a good reason for bringing her to my house, infringing upon our time together?_

"She stopped by just as I was walking out the door, and was really nervous about tonight. Like practically in tears nervous, all worried about drawing any more of Rosalie's wrath down upon herself, not knowing anyone or having anyone to talk to… For _some_ reason, I thought maybe you would be able to relate," she confided, her tone implying that I should relate. She had me there, but I wasn't about to admit it. Fuck that.

"Honestly, Bella, I didn't wake up today thinking 'What can I do to fuck with Bella.' The words were just out of my mouth before I could stop them. She's a really sweet person and she's trying so hard to be accepted. It's not like it's her fault that her and Edward are together." _The hell it wasn't!_ Okay, so it wasn't, but… "If you want to hate someone, hate him."

_Believe me, I do._

"Whatever, Alice. What's done is done, but just because I can't kick her out without seeming like a huge bitch, doesn't mean I have to pretend to like her. Just keep her away from me, and everything will be peachy. I'm jumping into the shower. Why don't you go hang out with your new bestie."

"Bella, don't be that way; it's not like that."

"Sure, fine, whatever you say." I was done with our conversation, and just wanted her gone. "You do realize that she's been out there unsupervised with Rose for an awfully long time, don't you?"

"Shit!" Alice yelped in alarm.

She vacillated, torn between rushing off to make sure Dr. Girlfriend was free from a Rosalie beat down, and showing her loyalty to me. I thought about seeing how long it would take for her to breakdown and rush to Charlotte's defense, but discovered I wasn't that interested in seeing how I rated. Instead, I walked into the bathroom and closed the door behind me, trying the entire way to maintain my haughty, self-righteous indignation and moral superiority…despite knowing, even at that moment, just how faulty they were.

I stayed in the show for longer than necessary. I had a long day and night ahead of me that I needed to prepare for.

.

~∞Ѿ∞~

.

"Can we get another round over here?" I shouted to the party bus 'host' from my seat at the table of honor—well, the only table, actually. I rolled my eyes as the rest of the girls—my best friends included—went nuts for the stripper Alice had hired. Blonde—go figure—not my type. I was ready for the night to be over already, and the evening wasn't even half over with.

To be perfectly honest, much of my dissatisfaction had to do with the fact that Dr. Girlfriend—who was, at that moment, wedged into the seat next to me, hooting it up with a gaggle of girls who had taken to her swimmingly (yet had never taken to me, not that I cared)—had wormed her way into our plans.

Thank God, we were finally on our way to The Alibi Room to meet up with the guys, because I couldn't handle being trapped in a tin can with them any longer. If I had to hear one more 'Edward really likes when...' or 'This one time, Edward…', I was seriously going to cut a bitch. Rose and I had spent the majority of the evening, up to that point, huddled together on one side of the table, rolling our eyes and scoffing every time Edward's name was mentioned with Rose repeatedly asking me to remind her again why she was friends with such catty cows.

Yeah, we were aware that we, too, were acting like catty bitches, but it was Rose's party and she could be catty if she wanted to…and cattiness loves company. It wasn't my fault she handed the job to me. And they really were acting like cows.

As soon as the future desperate housewives learned that _the_ Edward Cullen had finally been tamed, it was _all _anyone wanted to talk about. _Someone managed to finally snag Edward Cullen? Oh. My. God! I can't believe it! What I wouldn't give to call that sweet piece of ass mine! _

As if that weren't bad enough, the sly glances that were thrown my way every time Dr. Girlfriend mentioned his name gave me the distinct impression that they all thought I was either one of his (_many_) scorned former lovers or that I had been vainly pining after him for years. I held Alice entirely responsible for all of the whispers and piteous glances I'd been subjected to all evening.

The only reason I hadn't completely disowned her was because she had been trying to steer the conversation toward a less potentially explosive topic since its commencement, and it wasn't her fault Charlotte had been invited to the damn party. It wasn't Rose's fault either. She hadn't wanted to invite her any more than I had, but Esme Cullen and Emily Post had overruled both of us. Of course, I couldn't be angry at either of them because one of them was the mother I never had and the other was dead.

I still needed someone upon which to foist my percolating ire, so I stewed on it as we unloaded from the bus outside the club, a process that seemed to take forever as some of the ladies felt the need to give the stripper some rather enthusiastic _alohas_. As usual with 'aloha', I wasn't sure if they were saying hello or goodbye.

By the end of my third Manhattan, I decided I could pin it all on Edward, my denouncement leaving me feeling smug. _All of it was his fault, after all. _I ate the alcohol-laden cherry at the bottom of my empty glass and decided to celebrate with another.

.

~∞Ѿ∞~

.

I had told myself all evening that once we met up with the guys the night would improve. Sure, it was a long shot, but I had been trying to be optimistic._ Fuck optimism. _Surely, with forty or so more people around I could manage to avoid Dr. Girlfriend and her Eddie-centric tales? Right?

Wrong.

Oh, so wrong.

"I have such a hard time believing the stories of Edward's womanizing ways!" Charlotte declared to a chorus of disbelief and an accompaniment of snorts.

It was like she was stalking me. In the hour since we'd arrived, I'd had to move away from Charlotte and her revolving gaggle of giggling girls as they 'oohed' and 'ahhed' over her vomit inducing bullshit stories more than three times. As much trouble as she had believing in Ed-whores promiscuous ways, I found it even more difficult to believe the stories she'd been bandying around all night.

The Edward she talked about was a sham, a farce, a mask that he was, for some reason I couldn't even begin fathom, wearing and it made me want to gag. On the plus side, I no longer felt nearly as inferior to her as I had before. That he was pretending to be someone he wasn't told me he wasn't happy, and that she was buying into his disingenuousness made her an idiot. I may have never actually _gotten_ Edward, but at least he never pretended when he was with me; he was _always _himself. Usually to my detriment, but all the same…

"I know, I know, I know!" she protested in a drunken rush, holding up one hand to silence them while pressing the other over her heart. Her face was flushed, obviously loving the attention as they hung on her every misinformed word. "I know it's all true, but the Edward Cullen I know is the sweetest, most thoughtful, doting and loving man I've ever known.

"He's always doing little things to prove how much he cares. Like a couple of weeks ago, I had just come off my second double shift in a row, and was dead tired. All I wanted to do was fall into my bed and never get up again, but I really needed to study and get some things done."

They were waiting with baited breath, while I tried not to vomit, rolling my eyes so hard that I was concerned I may have sprained them. Can_ you sprain your eyeballs?_

"Well, when I got home, Edward was there. He drew me a bath, made me something to eat, carried me to bed and made love to me for hours while quizzing me on the material I needed to study—never have I loved studying more, let me tell you!"

I scoffed—out loud—as they all squealed. I earned a few glares, including one from L'il Miss Duped. Whatever. Somebody gag me, please.

It amused me at how easily she saw what she wanted to see. Edward wielded doting like a weapon, pulling it out when he was trying to distract you. It meant next to nothing. And sexy study sessions? Just a means to an end with as few objections from you as possible.

"Afterwards, he told me to sleep and, when I started to object since I still had errands to do, he told me he had already taken care of my tabs, picked up my dry-cleaning and returned my library books."

They were eating it up, but as for me? Well, my father always told me to never believe a hard sell. I mean, who was she trying to convince? Her audience or herself?

"The only reason I believe it's the truth—well, besides the fact that he was honest with me about it from the beginning—is the fact that _no one_ has skills like that without having put the practice in. I mean, the sex… Out. Of. This. World!"

It sounded like a pack of hyenas as they howled and begged for details. As she launched into a racy story meant to illustrate how lucky she was, I decided that I didn't want or need to stick around.

"He does this thing…with his tongue…"

Memories of exactly what _thing _she was talking about briefly tumbled around in my head. With a deep, longing sigh, I shook them off. _Definitely my cue to go._

My intention had been to slip quietly away, but I was spared the luxury, though it was entirely my own fault. I could have—almost definitely should have—ignored the snide, not-quite-under-the-breath comments that came from some of Rose's bitchier acquaintances (_Seriously, why _was_ she friends with these girls again?_) as I walked away. But when I was slighted by their ringleader…_or maybe, possibly, I just misconstrued her comment; po-tay-toe, pa-ta-toe_…I couldn't let it go_._

…_Boom! I got your boyfriend, I got your man…_

"And the way he looks at me afterwards…it's like no one has ever made him feel the way I do, like no one has _ever_ compared to me. I've never felt so loved in my entire life. Even if he's never said the words, I can see it in his eyes."

"Awww!" A chorus of affirmations that barely concealed their jealousy, rang out around her. "That's so sweet!"

_Oh, hellllllllllllllll no!_

"Oh, Jesus-fucking-Christ, are you that fucking naïve! Let me guess, he gives you a kiss on the cheek and softly thanks you, before disengaging under the pretense of throwing the condom away and falling asleep on his side of the bed, that is, if he actually comes back to bed at all?

"It's vintage Cullen; I think he may have actually had the move trademarked. It doesn't mean he loves you! It's just something he's _always _done after he gets his rocks off to keep the girl from feeling like trash and coming back for more. It's so second nature to him, he doesn't even know he's doing it.

"At one point, I got so fucking sick of it that shit, that I finally told him that I would chop his nuts off if he didn't cut it out. So, you're not special or anything. You wanna feel special, wait until he's gone down on you for an hour, given you countless orgasms, then pulls you into his arms to cuddle. And then, just before you both fall asleep, he nuzzles your ear and whispers how much he appreciates you allowing him to taste you and that he can't ever get enough of it, of you, _ever. _

"THEN you'll feel special and truly loved. I mean, nothing beats the way you feel after that. Take my word for it."

My volume had steadily increased so that I was practically screaming at her by the end. As my voice stilled, I became aware that I'd been shouting in a nearly silent room, the slow song playing, not loud enough to drown me out. Alice was frantically tugging on my arm—she had been the entire time, I realized—trying to get my attention and shut me up, but I hardly noticed until I finished my tirade and noticed the hush that had fallen.

_Oh, fuck._

The feeling of being under a microscope is surprisingly sobering. Suddenly hyperaware of the curious stares that I had drawn, I cringed and looked around me, searching for the only two sets of eyes—one hot, one cold, but both searing—that mattered, terrified that either of them, one more than the other, had overheard me.

I felt Edward's eyes on me before I saw him. A tingle ran up my spine, and I reveled in the sensation, letting it momentarily chase away the mortification, shame and guilt I felt. Glancing the direction from which the thrum of electricity seemed to be emanating, I wasn't surprised by the jade that met my dull brown. The intensity of his gaze pierced through my alcohol-numb, sending everything I'd been repressing crashing down in an avalanche upon me.

My ears rang as the uncomfortable hush that not even Alice seemed to know how to fix continued. Just when I was certain I was going to burst into flames from the million prickling emotions needling at me, Rose's voice rang out, piercing the insulating and smothering bubble of silence around us. As if we had all been paused and someone had just pushed play, the club erupted, everything seeming to happen all at once.

"Bitch, please!" she sassed. She was just getting started, but that was all I heard. I couldn't be bothered to listen as my attention was drawn elsewhere.

Darting toward a movement on the far side of the club, my eyes landed on the only person I should have been looking for, and I released the breath I'd been holding since spotting Edward. _Jake._ Had he not been head and shoulders above almost everyone there, I wouldn't have noticed him walking out of the hallway that led to the bathrooms. He smiled when he saw me, and I offered one back, not wanting him to come over thinking he needed to rescue me, but it must not have fooled him.

He frowned, his eyes wandering my face as he tried to figure out what was wrong with me, and my breathing started to speed. _He can't come over here._ His roaming eyes skidded to a halt before reversing and slamming on the breaks again, and I knew exactly what, or rather, whom, his gaze was focused on. _Edward._ Jakes expression hardened and he squared his shoulders, his chest seeming to puff up as he did it.

_Fuck, fuck, fuck-fuck, fuck._ I'd caused enough drama for one night; I couldn't handle the kind that was going to go down if Jake made it over to me. Not to mention, with it only a week away, Rose would never forgive me if Edward were to have a black eye, or worse, at the wedding. _Fuck my life! _The only thought in my head was that I needed to head him off at the pass. Inappropriately (or appropriately as the case may have been), the thought came with its very own soundtrack. …_he rode a blazing saddle_…_he wore a shining star…his job to offer battle to bad men near and far_…

Totally focused on preventing the imminent disaster (_and not on humming along to the theme song from Blazing Saddles_), I didn't notice Rose materialize at my side, still talking, until she threw her arm around my shoulder. I attempted to slip out from under her arm and scoot off to intercept Jake, but Rose's hand clamped down on my shoulder, keeping me at her side. She paused whatever she had been saying to shoot me a quick 'What the fuck?' look out of the corner of her eye and pull me more firmly into her side before continuing with what she was saying while I tried to contain my growing panic.

"Quit trying to make all the other ladies feel better about the fact that Emmett's off the market; we _all_ know that I got the good brother."

A smattering of confused laughter accompanied her comment, and I joined in—tinny and hollow—trying to act as if the shit wasn't about to hit the fan. I stared at the 'pimp cup' Alice made for her with 'bride' blingingly emblazoned upon it, trying to mask my anxiety with attentiveness, but the second Rose started to speak again, my eyes searched Jake out, hoping I wasn't too late. I spotted him, striding purposefully across the dance floor, a look of grim determination on his face, and in the set of his shoulders.

He was still quite a ways away, not even halfway to where the group of us was standing, and it was even farther to Edward, but I pre-emptively braced myself for the impact. Suddenly…_Cinderella story, straight out of nowhere_…_ Look! Up in the club! It's a bird! It's a plane! No, it's_…Emmett swooped in—arm over Jake's shoulder, not taking no for an answer, redirecting his attention and his person, and guiding him to the bar on the opposite side of the room, as far from disaster as the walls of the club would allow.

Jake stiffened under Em's arm and, although he wanted to come to my side—ostensibly under the guise of concern over my distress, but in reality, itching for a fight with Edward—good manners and knowing my friends were important to me—and, thusly, us—held him in place. Still, as he reluctantly bent to my burly friend's will, he continued to glance back at me, ready to bolt at the first sign that I needed him.

Real humor replaced feigned as relief washed over me in giddy waves as Em unknowingly averted the crisis. Catching his eye, I grinned at him, and his posture relaxed. Disappointment flickered across his face, but he had resigned himself to the turn of events. He gave me an apologetic shrug, which I dismissed with an eye roll and a 'whatever…go, have fun, enjoy yourself; I'll be right here waiting when you're done' gesture. He went, only looking back once more before disappearing from sight.

The bottom abruptly fell out of my good mood when I turned my attention back to Rose and saw Edward in the edge of my vision, his expression half-scowl, half-sneer as he watched Jake leave with Emmett. I tried to just shrug it off, shrug _him_ off, but it just pissed me off so much. _What right did he have?_ Although I couldn't put him completely out of my mind, I did make an effort to focus on Rose. Staring once again at her bedazzled cup, smile in place, I laughed and made all the appropriate expressions in all the right places.

_Jesus H. Christ, being around Edward is going to give me emotional whiplash one of these days! I felt like a bi-polar emo-freak._

"His skills be so good," Rose rambled on, slipping further into her drunken Yellow Rose of the Ghetto persona, "I know they put all these other motherfuckers to shame, hands down. In fact, I'd put money on it…especially his brothers.

"Emmett _is_ the eldest—the biggest—," she raised her eyebrows lasciviously, the gesture accenting her innuendo, "of the Cullen boys, after all."

The track suddenly changed, the beat of a club mix booming through the air with the force of a wrecking ball, sudden and unexpected. Rose started bobbing her head. "Umm, umm! This is my jam! D.J., turn that shit up!" she called out, all Mekhi Pfeiffer in _Eight Mile_.

…_this is my life and these times are so hard and they're getting even harder…_

Following Rose's lead, the party in our little area was soon swinging once again, my declarations and the ensuing awkwardness forgotten for the moment, but I was under no misperception that it wouldn't be pulled out for discussion as they all nursed their hangovers in the morning.

.

~∞Ѿ∞~

.

As much as I would have preferred to join the revelers as they _shook their groove thangs_, I couldn't. I couldn't get Edward's face—the initial intensity with it's hint of smugness after my word vomit, the sneering scowl when Jake appeared, the angry hurt and pleading just then—out of my head. I just wanted to have fun and he was ruining everything! Why couldn't I let him go, let the hurt go, get him out of my head? Why was it so fucking difficult?

Anger bubbled up and over, and I suddenly needed to get out of there before I was the one giving Edward bruises and causing a scene. The writhing couples dry-humping around me, the milling throngs, and images of Edward were pushing in on me, robbing me of oxygen. With a parting, dark glare, I broke away from Edward's ensnaring eyes, whose trap I'd unknowingly become caught in, and stalked off towards the exit, rudely pushing my way through the press of bodies surrounding me.

I ignored the look on Edward's face that so closely matched the one that must have been on mine, and the knowing smirks of our scandal-loving audience as they glanced back and forth between us. I wanted to run away from all of it. For just a few moments, I didn't want to think about the glassy eyes of his forgotten-about _girlfriend _or how I wanted to like her, _could_ have liked her in another life, if she didn't have what I wanted the most and if she hadn't flaunted it in my face after my earlier charity.

I gratefully sucked in a lungful of oxygen as I half-fell through the heavy front door of the club to the outside. It was instant relief, the fresh, damp air washed over me like a balm, soothing my anger and frazzled nerves, the crispness clearing my mind, and I stood in the middle of the empty sidewalk, hunched over with my hands on my knees, greedily gulping it in.

The door opened behind me, shattering the near-silence of the nighttime Seattle waterfront. The door closed with a clang, the quiet returning, only now it was pregnant, _heavy_, with expectation. I didn't need to look to know who was there; on some level, I'd been expecting him, but that didn't mean I was prepared. Or that he was welcome.

"No!" I shouted, heaving my body upright and then rushing blindly down Post Alley, not caring where I was going, 'away' being my only rational thought.

"Bella, wait, Goddamn it!" he demanded angrily before giving chase.

I didn't stand a snowballs' chance in hell at outrunning him sober, so my chances were slightly lower than that drunk, but I increased my pace regardless and prayed that I could out-maneuver him. _And that I stayed on my feet._

Seizing the first opportunity that presented itself, I darted into a dim opening as it appeared. I didn't pause to think about where it led, or who could be inside of it, I just flung myself up the half-flight of concrete stairs, across the short landing at the top and, giving a silent prayer of thanks to Lady Luck, through the heavy metal door that unexpectedly opened. I'd done it; I'd gotten away from him.

.

~∞Ѿ∞~

.

As it turned out, I was wrong. Before I had a chance to take so much as one step away from the closing door, the door was torn open and a hand darted through, wrapping itself around my forearm just below my elbow. I was yanked back as his body came through the door and spun, my body trapped firmly between his chest and the wall as the steel door closed with an ominous metallic shriek.

He held me there, just like that, for a long minute, our pants echoing in the empty stairwell the only sound. My breathing had just begun to calm, when one of his hands slid between my back and the wall, tangling in my hair and using it to force my chin up, but I refused to meet his eyes, acting as if he wasn't there. I stared at his Adam's apple instead, losing myself in the slight movements caused by each breath he took, the erotic bobbing motion every time he swallowed. Only my rapidly accelerating breathing gave away the effect that his presence had on me.

…_I'd love to give my self away, but I find it hard to trust_…

"Damn it, Bella! Stop shutting me out! Stop pretending that there's nothing between us…that you don't feel that spark…that you don't still want me every bit as much as I want you. Just fucking look at me!"

An order, a demand that he expected me to follow, and I wanted to, but I couldn't. Wouldn't. Not this time. Just because it was inevitable, didn't mean I had to give in without a fight. I didn't need to look, anyway. I had a good idea of what I'd find in his eyes, because it mirrored what I knew was in mine.

I was so conflicted. I didn't want to do to Jacob what Edward had done to me for years, but I felt as if I couldn't stop it. Why, oh, why had I left the club knowing he would follow me? _Stop playing dumb; you know why._ Much as I wanted to deny it, I _did_ know why. I'd known from the beginning what would happen, but knowing it and standing at the cusp of it were entirely different.

…_I've got no map to find my way amongst these clouds of dust_…

I didn't want to be that girl! That bitchy voice in my head scoffed at me_. Twenty-five years old and still thinking of yourself as a girl_! I didn't need a Psych 101 class to analyze why that was. A girl because I somehow thought that I could be found less responsible for my actions if they were done with the naiveté of a girl, rather than the knowledge of a woman. It always amazed me, the lengths your mind would go to trivialize your actions until they seemed forgivable. But in my heart of hearts, I knew that there was nothing forgivable about what was about to happen. _There you go again, trying to separate yourself from any responsibility. _

…_fear can stop you loving_…

"_Please…_" he pleaded and, though fear ran strong through my veins once more, I could no longer deny him.

I had to give him something, so I gave him honesty in a hushed, tremulous voice. "I hate you…for making me want you so much."

With startling clarity, I knew that going through with this would be the end for us, our swan song. I still couldn't trust him, the very fact that he was out here with me when his gorgeous and doting girlfriend was inside was proof of that.

"I know what you mean," he agreed just as quietly as he brought his hands to my face, cupping my jaw and angling my head in preparation for his kiss.

His lips descended toward mine, but I pulled slightly away before they could touch, stopping him. My eyes finally met his for just a moment. "This changes nothing," I told him, wanting him to know the score before we played the game.

"Fine." His response was so swift and succinct, I had to wonder if he had really heard what I'd said and, if he had, if he believed me, but his mouth suddenly on mine, greedy and insistent, stole all my thoughts.

…_love can stop your fear_…

The moment our lips made contact, everything—fear, hurt, right, wrong—disappeared, allowing me to bask in the pure love I felt for him this one last time. I knew later, when our passion had cooled and our clothes were back on, the weight of it all would crush me, but I'd deal with it all then.

.

~∞Ѿ∞~

.

_Oh, you probably won't remember me  
It's probably ancient history  
I'm one of the chosen few  
Who went ahead and fell for you  
I'm out of hope, I'm out of touch  
I fell too fast, I feel too much  
I thought that you might have  
Some advice to give on how to be  
Insensitive_

* * *

******Songs Used**  
(In Order of Appearance):**  
**_Once In a Lifetime,_ Talking Heads  
_Boom I Got Your Boyfriend,_ Khia  
_Blazing Saddle,_ Frankie Laine  
_Lose Yourself_, Eminem  
_Fear and Love,_ Morcheeba  
_Insensitive,_ Jann Arden

**Notes:  
**1. Emily Post's Guide to Etiquette has long been considered the last word on appropriate social conduct  
2. "_Cinderella story, straight out of nowhere_…" - Line from the movie _Caddyshack_  
3. "_Look! Up in the club! It's a bird! It's a plane! No, it's_..." – common popular phrase, originally from _Superman_, but twisted to suit my needs  
4. '…head him off at the pass…' is a line from the hilarious Mel Brooks film _Blazing Saddles,_ thus the theme song playing in her head

**Rec's:**_  
House of Cards,_ therunaway1  
_The Journal,_ MsEm  
_What a Girl Wants, What a Boy Means_, Ingenuefic  
_No Holds Barred_, jayhawkbb  
_There is a Light_, belladonnacullen  
_Up Love's Creek_, LondonGoth  
_My Name is Not Bella_, MsSailorman  
_The Vagina Monologues_, jtmd24  
_A May to December Romance_, Positively 4th Street**  
**


	13. Chapter 13 My List

**Disclaimer: **S. Meyer owns all recognizable characters, plots, etc. Only original content, characters, etc. belongs to author. No copyright infringement intended. Any errors contained herein, are expressly the fault of the authors idiocy, and not her betas.

**Word Count:** 6833

**A/N: **You'll have to forgive me for taking a bit of creative license with the location. I've been there a bunch of times, but I've never been in any condition to recall much of it, if any, and it's been a while. Google maps, as great as it is, can't bring back memories drowned in Grey Goose.

As always, thanks to my V for dotting my i's, and thanks to Redvelvetheaven for keeping this fic on track, and not being afraid to tell me, "I don't think so. Try again." Red, you're like my WD-40—whenever I get stuck, you're there to save the day.

Finally, thanks to all of you for reading. Let me know what you think. Or not. Either way, enjoy.

* * *

**Chapter 13 –** **My List**

* * *

_Let me wrap myself around you  
Let you show me how I see  
And when you come back in from nowhere  
Do you ever think of me?  
Your heart is not able  
Let me show you how much I care  
I need those eyes to tide me over  
I'll take your picture when I go  
It gives me strength and gives me patience  
But I'll never let you know  
I got nothing on you baby  
But I always said I try  
Let me show you how much I care  
Cause sometimes it gets hard  
And don't she know_…_  
_…_When your heart is not able  
And your prayers they're not fables_…_  
_…_Let me show you how much I care oh_  
- The Killers

.

~∞Ѿ∞~

.

"_Please…_" I begged in a near whimper, not even slightly embarrassed at how unmanly it sounded; I no longer gave a fuck. About anything. At all. And the fact that I was with her at that moment instead of where I should be proved that. Coincidentally, that was the same reason I no longer cared. _Because I was with her._

Everything about it was wrong—_I shouldn't _be_ with her because I wasn't _with _her_—but I was so desperate for her that none of it mattered. I didn't care that I should be back at the club seeing to Charlotte—who, quite frankly, had kind of been asking for it…the comeuppance Bella gave her, not me cheating on her—or that Bella had Jake waiting for her inside. It didn't matter that she obviously still hated and wanted nothing to do with me or that my entire family would kick my ass if they knew what I was doing. The only thing that held any importance was that Bella hadn't kneed me in the balls yet and that there was still something between us.

"I hate you…" I tensed, waiting for the rejection that was surely coming but, as usual, she surprised me. "…for making me want you so much."

"I know what you mean," I concurred. I'd felt that way from nearly the moment I first saw her, so I couldn't hold it against her. She still wasn't running like she should, like I expected, so I tilted her head so I could kiss her like I wanted, quickly, before she could change her mind or think.

Just as I was about to taste her sweet lips, she leaned away, and looked me in the eyes. _This is it, _I thought, _she's going to run._ But she didn't. With conviction, she told me, "This changes nothing."

"Fine," I agreed without hesitation, and then claimed her lips before she could change her mind. She could kid herself all she wanted, but her warning meant nothing to me. This changed _everything._ Now, I just had to show her…_and show her I would_.

With a feral growl, I attacked, so desperate to reacquaint myself with as much of her as possible, to taste as much of her as possible, I was unable to be gentle; my mouth and hands were ruthless in their exploration of her. I probably should have felt badly for being so rough and forceful with her, but she matched me stroke for bruising stroke, eliminating any guilt I might have felt.

I couldn't help looking around as we kissed, my eyes sweeping over the cold, impersonal harshness of the concrete stairwell, and I was suddenly ashamed of myself. It wasn't exactly where or how I'd imagined having her again. I had told myself if she were ever in my arms again, I would do things right. I wanted to give her everything she deserved. I wanted to make love to her, worship her body for hours, not have a quick fuck in a semi-public place.

Yet, despite the wrongness of it all—or maybe in spite of it—I knew I wasn't going to stop. However, I could be gentle with her. If I couldn't give her everything else I wanted, that she deserved, I could at least give her that.

I buried my face in the crook of her neck, my happy place, and froze there. Taking several deep breaths, I willed myself to calm down, to slow down, not moving again until I had myself under control. My hands were clenched tightly in her hair, somehow having found their way back there during the frenzy. I released her hair, moving my hands to her shoulders and skimming down her arms as I trailed kisses up and down the column of her neck – not rushing, just enjoying the taste and feel of her once more. Relishing the moment, I let out a soft sigh, only to have it turn into a hiss as Bella tugged painfully at my hair and raked her teeth down my neck.

…_we were spitting venom at most everyone we know, if the damned gave us a road map then we'd know just where to go_…

"Easy, Bella!"

"What the fuck, Edward? We're not _making love _here! Stop treating me like glass and get to it so we can get back before anyone notices we're gone," she demanded angrily.

I felt a split second of confusion as I processed her words, and then anger rushed hotly through me. My body reacted to the surge of its own accord. By the time I caught up, my hands were once again fisted in her hair, and her body was firmly pressed against the concrete wall.

…_my ears were pressed so firmly right against your mouth to hear_…

"Is that all you want, Isabella – a quick _fuck_?" I flung the word at her. With a total disconnect between my brain and my mouth as I continued to speak, but I was unable to stop spitting the cruel words at her. "That young pup of yours not giving you what you need? Hmmm? Had to come to a real man to get it?"

I didn't give her a chance to answer before whispering in her ear, my lips just grazing the lobe, "I guess I should give you what you want then."

…_when you tried to spit the venom out your words were not so clear_…

I took her earlobe between my lips, sucking gently, and then punctuated my words with a bit of pain—a reminder that I knew what she liked—by biting down and pulling away. Dickhead-Ed, who was back in control, was delighted by the low hiss and slight shiver he was rewarded with. Thinking that he had her right where he wanted her, his smirk stole across my face, but Bella quickly wiped it off. I couldn't decide whether to be pissed off by her defiance or proud that she had a backbone; I was going to have to ponder it another day.

…_hold on to what you need, we've got a knack for fucked up history_…

She shoved me away, and then stalked towards me, a dangerous glint in her eyes. "That 'pup'," she shoved me again, "does more than hold his own against an old dog like you, _Eddie_," and again. "I'm just throwing a dog a bone." With a look of vindictive satisfaction on her face, she fisted my shirt in both hands, and gave one final push, slamming me against the wall opposite of where I'd just trapped her.

…_I didn't know you kept track I didn't know there was a score_…

"Figured if I let you fuck me one last time, maybe you'd go rolling home and leave me the fuck alone." Her lovely lips turned up in a devious smirk and, for just a minute, I wanted to slap it off her face, but I didn't hit girls. "Now, are you gonna fuck me or do I need to have Jake scratch my itch for me?"

Fortunately for me—and her, incidentally—I had no qualms about fucking it off her face.

I turned the tables around on her…literally and figuratively. She was right back where she started—her back against the wall, only this time, it was the opposite wall. I had one hand in her hair, and the other wrapped loosely around her throat as I stared at her, panting with my teeth bared. If my aggressive behavior fazed her at all, she didn't show it or resist me at all. Her breathing had picked up and I could feel her hummingbird pulse under my fingertips, but the smirk still hadn't left her face and her eyes were glazed with lust. It pissed me off even more.

She was goading me, trying to push me into make less of this than what it was, and I couldn't let that happen. But that smirk—_my_ smirk—on her face taunted me, and then the tip of her tongue slipped out and traced her lips, her plump bottom lip shining even in the anemic light provided by the sole fluorescent fixture two stories above our heads. And then she sucked it into her mouth, biting it as she gazed up at me from beneath her lashes, challenging me. On anyone else it would have looked innocent, demure, but from her it was anything but. Her eyes were teasing me, _Come on, Eddie. You know you want to. Fuck me! _ God help me, I caved.

…_well, it looks like you're the winner and I ain't gonna play no more_…

"Well, since I'm already here, I might as well…" I growled at her, already working the button and zipper of her jeans with the hand that had been at her throat. I didn't look at her eyes as I worked, already knowing the gloating I would find there.

In short order, I had her jeans and thong shoved over her hips and pushed halfway down her thighs, with her spun around to face the wall. If she wanted to be fucked, I would give her what she wanted. One hand remained on her hip, pulling her towards me, while the other moved to rest heavily between her shoulder blades, pushing her forward and down without warning. She gasped, barely managing to get her hands up in time to prevent her from slamming her face against wall, and the asshole inside me snarled in delight.

…_it's over_…

Drifting out from where he'd been banished deep within the recesses of my mind, I could faintly make out the real me telling me to stop, that I was about to fuck everything up, but I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and ignored him. I pushed on.

"Don't move," I ordered, pushing down with more pressure to reinforce it the command. When I was as certain as I could be that she would do as I said, I lifted my hand to her hair, gathering it up and wrapping it twice around my fist.

I tugged firmly, and then leaned back, just taking in the vision before me. Her hair pulled tight, causing her neck and back to arch, bare ass jutting out towards me, and her fingers splayed against the graffiti covered concrete wall of the stairwell, trembling. She was gorgeous. Exposed. Fragile, except I knew she wasn't. Not really. Deceptively delicate. Porcelain-covered steel. I had never wanted her so badly. I had to have her, had to own her strength. Right. Fucking. Now.

I released her hip and reached down. One-handed, I unbuckled my belt and yanked at my jeans, buttons popping free one by one until I was able to push them down enough to reach in and pull my dick out, hard and aching for her. My eyes dropped down to her ass—_lower_—to the apex of her thighs, to the puffy lips that I could just barely make out, glistening with her arousal. I wanted to see more, so I moved my leg between her thighs and kicked her feet apart as wide as the shackle of her jeans would allow, and then stroked myself…_once_…_twice_…before lining up and pressing my hips forward.

…_game over_…

My knees nearly buckled when I finally felt the warm wetness of _my_ holy land. I groaned loudly; the sound was a prayer, a hymn, a blessing and a benediction that drowned out the low moan I felt vibrate through her body. Continuing forward, I slipped further between her thighs to slide teasingly along her wetness. I tugged her head back further as I bent at the waist until her back was pressed to my front and my lips could reach her neck, my breath and words her ear.

Drawing a deep, uneven breath, I prayed in earnest now—choppy, half-formed thoughts sent out to any deity that would listen, but none heard them. And then, it was like…time sped up and slowed down, all at once. Bella's soft whimper—more a pitchy exhalation—caused fire to raze me. I grabbed her hip, plunging in as I pulled her back onto me, unable to silence the loud, shuddering groan that left my lips or to still the feeling of completion that washed over me when I was fully sheathed in her.

I took her with deep, measured thrusts, muttering unknown things to her in between lazy licks of her neck and gentle nips of her ear. My need to consume and be consumed by her grew each time my hips met her ass, but Bella was too held together, too composed. _That would never do._ I needed her to be there with me, ragged and barely holding together, so I shifted my hips, minutely adjusting the angle, and thrust hard.

"Edddddd-waaaaard!" My name tore from her lips, a deep, guttural cry that rocked me to my core, and I lost it.

With my breaking control, time sped back up, crashing over us in a rush of pushing and pulling and meeting hips, jumbled, mumbled words and panted declarations of love—hers? Mine? I'm not quite sure. All too soon, it was done, the tempest of our passion wasting with a violent force that seemed apropos and made me understand what I hadn't all those years ago in my high school English class. _These violent delights have violent ends, _indeed.

…_you can say what you want but don't act like you care, it takes more than one person to decide what's fair_…

Our moment over, time returned to normal—neither too fast nor too slow—and our realities spread out before us, less bleakly than they had before if we were only willing to grasp at what we wanted. I was half-collapsed on top of her, my chest pressed to her back, hands framing hers against the wall, trying to prolong the moment until I had to pull away from her and waiting for my shaking knees to steady, when she shrank away and ducked out from beneath me.

…_it's over_…

The air, that only a moment before held all the promises of new beginnings that comes with spring, but carries just enough of winter's chill to remind us to be grateful, was positively icy now, the frost coming from my girl. Dazed, and my legs still not up to the task of supporting me, I stumbled, clutching at the wall to keep myself upright as I tried to figure out what was going on. She was already buttoning her jeans by the time I managed to focus my cloudy eyes on her, but the question forming on my lips—_What…?_—never had the chance to be asked.

"That was just a one-off for old times' sake, to get it out our systems…or something. It won't be happening again," she said with her back to me, her voice cold and unattached.

"I don't… I don't understand."

…_think it over_…

She snorted derisively. "What's not to understand, Edward? It's not like you don't have experience with this sort of thing. This used to be your modus operandi before you got together with your little Barbie doll. You got what you wanted – to stick your dick back in me –" she still wasn't facing me, but I could have sworn I saw her cringe as the crude, harsh words left her mouth, "so it's over."

…_what a rotten thing to say, such an awful thing to say, I didn't mean to bite you, sorry_…

Her words repeated in my ears, but no matter how I arranged them, I couldn't make any sense of them. I was about to ask her what the fuck she was talking about, when she spoke again, cutting me off with an angry ramble.

"Did it meet your expectations? Was it as good as you remembered, or did reality ruin the memories for you? Personally, I don't feel like I was cheated at all. Actually, my memories can't even compare because, although this isn't the trashiest place you've ever fucked me, I don't remember ever feeling as cheap as I do right now. Now that your little game is over, we can both go back to our regularly scheduled lives, already in progress."

She was out of control. Like a crazy woman, mirthless, bitter laughter fell from her lips, standing out starkly in the chilly, preternatural silence that pervaded the stairwell. She started to walk away, heading past me to the stairs, while I stood there, stunned and staring at the back of her head, unable to move, until finally…

…_I always did what I always did what I always had to sling_…

"Where the fuck do you think you're going?" The words came from my lips like a burst of angry machinegun fire, startling even me, but she didn't stop.

I started after her, forgetting that my jeans weren't buttoned, my now-limp dick still hanging out. My pants were pushed down far enough to be just barely holding on, and the first step I took caused them to slip down my hips. With the second they fell to mid-thigh, sending me sprawling to the ground on my hands and knees. It was as I scrambled to my feet while simultaneously attempting to tug my jeans up and put my cock away, that Bella secured her escape.

I was determined to not let her run away from me again. This time there was no one scheming Tanya or clueless family members to keep in the dark, and I was no longer afraid; there was nothing to stop me. I started to rise and chase after her, and…_ Oh, fuck! Son of a bitch! Motherfucker! Ow, ow, ow!_ Pain burst from my right knee the moment I tried to put weight on it, stopping me in my tracks as it almost gave out on me.

She was already nearly to the door at the landing above, and I knew there was no way I was going to catch her with a fucked-up knee, so I did the only thing I could. I gave up, admitting defeat for now. _You won this one, _I thought, my mental-self shaking his fist in the air like some sixties spy-film villain, _but you haven't seen the last of me_. Or maybe I was more like the Wicked Witch of the West…_I'll get you, my pretty, and your little dog, too!_ My thoughts would have made me chuckle if the circumstances weren't so pathetically tragic.

"This isn't over, Bella!" I shouted after her.

"It is. Go back to your girlfriend. I'm sure she's wondering where you went," she said in that same jaded monotone that I've only heard the times I've had to pick up the pieces that her mother left behind. She couldn't leave; not sounding like that.

"Bella…_please, _don't go..._not yet_…" I tried one last time.

"Goodbye, Edward," was her only reply as she opened the door on the landing above me.

…_cheer up, baby, it wasn't always quite so bad_…

"You have to know, Bella," she paused, waiting, "you have to know you were never just a fuck. _Never!_" I called out, desperate now, but being completely honest. _After all, what did I have to lose?_

…_for every bit of venom that came out, the antidote was had_…

"And what just happened between us was so much more than just me scratching an itch," I finished pointlessly, my voice fading as I heard the door slam shut up above me. The final-sounding thud and screech of metal against metal left me entombed in silence and failure.

.

~∞Ѿ∞~

.

I don't know how long I sat on the steps numb and lost in self-flagellation before I finally felt the vibration of my phone in my pocket, alerting me that I had messages. Pulling it out of my pocket, I looked at the time and realized that I'd been gone longer than I thought. I had a handful of messages, so I knew there was no chance that my disappearance had gone unnoticed. I got carefully to my feet and sighed, knowing I would have to go back inside. With a deep breath, I opened the messages, reading them as I hobbled reluctantly back towards the club.

**Where the fuck are you? Charlotte is really upset and looking for you. I can't believe you just disappeared after what happened with her and Bella.  
-Alice**

Ignoring the guilt rising up like so much bile in the back of my throat upon seeing Charlotte's name in such close proximity to Bella's, I focused on my annoyance with Char's behavior. I scoffed. Like she had any reason to be upset. I mean, what the fuck had she been thinking? She had to have known how what she had been doing would make Bella feel, yet she wouldn't shut up.

Every time I had seen her throughout the night, she had been rubbing our _relationship_—if you could call it that when one person was so uninvolved—in her face, going on and on with her delusions of how great we were together, how sweet and caring I was. I couldn't help wondering if she was involved in the same – well, relationship, for lack of a better word, that I was.

If it wasn't for the fact that her behavior was so out of character, I would have been more pissed off than I was. She was just normally so considerate of others that it was hard to reconcile the Char I knew with the catty girl I'd seen tonight. Maybe it was the alcohol? Charlotte drank, but except for the night of Fear and Loathing and Tequila, she never drank to excess, and she was trashed tonight. Who knew? I let it go, certain I would be pondering it further later, and got back to Alice's texts.

**Have you seen Bella?  
-Alice**

**You better not be with her.  
-Alice**

**Or have done anything to her that would cause her to leave again.  
-Alice**

**I mean it, Edward, you better not be harassing Bella or I'm going to kick your ass, now get the fuck in here and deal with your upset **_**girlfriend.**_**  
-Alice**

**It better be a coincidence that you and Bella are missing at the same time. I don't know how much longer I can keep Jake and Charlotte from noticing.  
-Alice**

**You seriously better not be with her. I won't lie for you. I like Charlotte, and you know how I—how we all feel about Bella. I don't know where you went and I don't care, just get your ass back here. Now.  
-Alice**

**I'm giving you three minutes to either reply or show the fuck up before I send out a search party. Rosalie will be pissed if you get your face broke tonight.  
-Alice**

I rolled my eyes—_God, she was so dramatic, absolutely correct, but overly dramatic_—but decided to shoot her a quick text. _Just covering my bases. _I quickly jotted a reply to Alice.

**Chill the fuck out, Malice. Ringer was turned off on phone, and didn't notice it vibrate. Don't have a clue where Bella is. Haven't seen her since I saw you. Didn't know it was my turn to babysit. Was feeling dizzy, stepped out for some air, stumbled and fucked up knee. On my way back now.  
-E**

.

~∞Ѿ∞~

.

From the way Alice had been carrying on in her texts, I had expected to walk in on disgusted glares, shouted accusations, and Jacob Black's fist in my face, so it goes without saying that I was somewhat surprised to be barely a blip on anyone's radar when I did.

Alice and Charlotte approached almost as soon as I walked inside the private room on the second floor of the club. I was spared the inquisition I could see Malice dying to conduct—the questions burning in her narrowed eyes, but dammed by tightly pursed lips—by my…_girlfriend _(the word a bitter pill to swallow because she wasn't the one I wanted to hold the title) who was clinging to her arm.

Charlotte launched herself at me going into full-on, concerned girlfriend-slash-mother hen mode, too distracted by my injuries to question where I'd been for so long or to notice the glares Alice was leveling at me from above crossed arms, trying to intimidate. I met her glare straight on with my own annoyed one, holding it in an intense stare down while Charlotte clucked over me.

"Oh, honey! You need to get off that knee and get some ice on it – make sure you didn't hurt it too badly. Maybe we should go in to the E.R. for an x-ray and some scans just to be safe? How's the pain?" She reached for my hands while peppering my face with her kisses and concerns that I was trying to brush off, and I hissed, causing Charlotte to pull my hands towards her in alarm.

"Edward! You're bleeding, baby. We need to go clean these up."

"Yeah, you're right. Let's go," I agreed, not sure if she knew I meant leave entirely. I turned to address Alice. "I'm out, Al. I'm sure I'll hear from you tomorrow. Tell Em and Jazz-man I said 'later'."

"I'll do that," she said, still looking at me sternly, as Charlotte said, "You want to leave? I'm not ready to go yet."

Ignoring Alice and her whole 'I've got my eyes on you' thing, I addressed Charlotte. "Then stay if you want, but I'm out."

I separated myself from her, physically removing her limb by limb and heading towards the exit as soon as I was done. It was cold and unfeeling—I was acting like a grade-A douche—but I really didn't care. Her staying would make my night easier; I wasn't in the mood to deal with having to appease her tonight. Unfortunately, I would have to. Just as I reached the door, her hand slipped around my arm.

"Wait up, baby! I said I was coming, I just had to say goodbye to the girls first…"

Charlotte prattled on and on about her day, the party, the girls she met…or something along those lines, I assumed; I wasn't actually listening and I didn't really care. I was lost in my head, processing everything that had or hadn't happened, trying to figure out what could or would occur in the future, and how I felt about it all. _Not very good at the moment._

.

~∞Ѿ∞~

.

I stood awkwardly in the hallway outside of Charlotte's apartment while she moved about the living room doing God knows what. She stopped, finally realizing I hadn't followed her inside, and stared, her face scrunching up in confusion.

"What are you doing out there? Aren't you coming in?"

"Nah, I'm gonna head back to my place. I just wanted to walk you up and make sure you made it inside okay," I answered, looking down at the floor and scratching the back of my neck.

"Why not?" she questioned, honestly confused. "Are you upset with me?"

_Was I upset with her? Seriously? _I chuckled humorlessly, still looking down and scuffing my toe across a black mark on the vinyl tile, but not making any attempt to answer.

"Edward…_talk_ to me, please. What did I do?"

My head shot up, my angry eyes narrowing as they focused on her. "Seriously?" I snapped. "You honestly thought your behavior tonight was acceptable? That it was okay to act that way in the company you were in? I've never seen you behave so disrespectfully or hurtfully. And why? What did she ever do to you besides get fucked over by me?" I shook my head, adding in a mutter to myself, "Both literally and figuratively."

"I'm sorry. I…I didn't…" she started, but I quickly cut her off; I didn't care to hear her excuses and I wasn't the one to whom her apologies were owed.

"Don't apologize to me."

Silence hung in the air, uncomfortable and prickly, and I just wanted to go. The strangest desire to confess everything to her and have all this over with was starting to bubble up to the surface, and I didn't want to say or do something I would regret. I had already hurt Charlotte with my words, and probably by my distance and coldness, too—I didn't need to destroy her with a confession like that. _So, Charlotte, now that I've just scolded you for your behavior towards my…Bella, I just wanted to tell you that I fucked her earlier tonight. In a dirty stairwell. Later._ Not even I was that cruel—_not needlessly_—and I owed her better than that.

Truthfully, I owed her a lot; she was there for me when no one else was, dealt with my mood swings on a daily basis, my occasional insensitive and callous treatment of her, and even my sordid past, all without complaint. She even put up with my family and Rose with a smile on her face and minimal bitching which was, in and of itself, no small feat. I didn't want to hurt her, I did care about her, but I knew if I stayed, I would end up doing just that. The silence was killing me, but I wouldn't speak, refusing to break for fear of what I would say. I couldn't, however, keep my eyes from darting back up from the floor to her eyes.

_Fuck!_ She looked like she was on the verge of tears. I felt like I should do something or say something, but I couldn't find it in me to comfort her or reassure her; it made me feel like a shitty person. _I was a shitty person._ For the briefest of moments as my eyes were on her, I again contemplated ending our sham of a one-sided relationship. Maybe she saw it in my eyes or on my face—I don't know—but she winced and looked so devastated, that I quickly dismissed the thought. It's something I would later regret—it would have saved so much heartbreak in the long run—but at the time, I allowed my weakness and maybe my fear of being alone while Bella wasn't to convince me that it was the right thing to do. I mean, I was obviously hurting her regardless of my best intentions…

"I just got carried away," Charlotte blurted out, caving before I could. "It's been ages since I've gotten to gossip and have fun with a group of girls. It's not like I have anyone I can talk to about us... I just wasn't thinking. I don't understand why you're so upset about this."

"Bella's still my friend, Charlotte. No matter what happened between us…" I sucked in a breath at the sharp wave of pain I was unexpectedly hit with. "…in the past, and even if it's only ever one-sided, she's still my friend. I'm going to go, the cab's still waiting. I'll…call you tomorrow."

"Okay. Tomorrow," she said, her voice sad and small.

And I just turned and walked away like the cold, heartless bastard I was.

.

~∞Ѿ∞~

.

I didn't see her, speak to her or even hear of her in the week between the bachelor party and the wedding. I tried texting and even calling her, but she blocked my number and wouldn't accept calls from numbers she didn't recognize. I surreptitiously asked about her, but quit before anyone grew suspicious. Not that I really cared if they knew, but Bella obviously didn't want anyone knowing, so I would respect her wishes.

The no contact was driving me insane. I needed something of her, from her, but she wouldn't give me a thing. Not that I deserved it; I had taken so much from her. Still, she couldn't avoid me at the wedding. She could try, of course, but it wouldn't happen. At least that's what I kept telling myself, and it was the only thing that got me through the week.

The day after the bachelor party, I woke up in a foul mood-not even eight o'clock in the morning and I was already pissed off at the world.

"_Goddamn motherfucking son of a bitch!_" I shouted slamming through my dresser drawers, searching for, and not finding, my favorite boxer briefs. I was running late for my shift and still not dressed. I didn't usually have a problem with dressing—normally, I could do so in about five minutes; it's not like I have difficult decisions to make in regards to clothing. It was the same uniform of light green scrubs day in and day out. Today though, the day I was lucky enough to be assisting on a complicated aortic aneurysm repair, I had suddenly decided to be all particular about my jocks, and seemingly couldn't leave until I found the ones I wanted.

I heard a dull thud as I searched through the top drawer of my bureau for a second time. Initially, I wasn't terribly inclined to investigate it, but curiosity getting the best of me, I dug carefully through my drawer until my hand contacted the item. My breath caught in my chest when I sorted it from my briefs. I had forgotten that I'd put it there. Dazed and none too steady on my feet, I stumbled the few steps to my bed and sat down hard, staring at the box sitting in the palm of my hand.

_Bella's ring._

The memory was so vivid, like watching a movie. Stumbling into my apartment, numb from a combination of cheap whiskey, heartbreak and lack of sleep. Dropping my bag on the floor before stripping my grungy, travel-worn clothes off of me. Hearing the clunk as I dropped my coat onto the floor, having somehow forgotten about the box in my pocket despite the weight of it there. _That something so small could be so heavy, could carry the weight of several worlds, or at the least, two hearts_...

Even through my exhausted haze I had known what had caused the noise. I made my way to my coat, bent down and reluctantly pulled it from the pocket it was hidden in. It seemed even heavier than before, which was only right really, since my disappointed hopes and failures now resided in the box as well as the heartbreak of two people and the sins of my youth. I started to open the box, thinking to look on it one more time before I got rid of it, but just the mere thought of parting with the bauble made what was left of my heart clench up painfully. No, I couldn't get rid of the ring. If Bella couldn't wear it, no one would.

Not sure of what to do with it, I had tossed it the first place I was fairly certain it would go unnoticed and no one would think to look (just _who _I thought would be doing the looking, I haven't a clue): my underwear drawer.

The alarm on my phone went off, snapping me back to reality and alerting me that I needed to leave or I would be late. I reluctantly got up, and sat the open ring box on my bureau. I dressed in distraction, hardly taking my eyes from the faceted stone in its platinum band, and no longer concerned with wearing my favorite boxers. I dressed slowly, taking more time than I had to spare, but when my phone beeped at me in reminder for the second time, I knew I had to go. Like ripping a Band-Aid off, I jerked my eyes away from the ring and rushed through the door.

I didn't even make it a full step out of the room before reaching my hand back inside, plucking the ring from its box, and shoving it inside the deep pocket of my scrubs. It must have looked as if I were playing a little solo pocket pool all day with the way my hand stayed buried in my pocket—spinning her ring around the tip of my pinkie (the only finger it would even fit the tip of), running my fingers over the facets of the diamond and the smooth platinum band—whenever I wasn't using it.

I definitely garnered a couple of strange looks, prompting me to stop when I actually noticed, but minutes later, my hand would be back in my pocket, drawn to the ring like Gollum was to his precious.

It was a crutch, probably not healthy, and kind of a pansy thing to do, but just the weight of it there against my leg, made me feel better…it calmed me, smoothed my fraying edges, and eased the ache in my soul. _It's not like anyone is going to find out about it_, I told myself each time I transferred it from one pocket to another.

.

~∞Ѿ∞~

.

Even I had to admit—grudgingly—that Rosalie looked beautiful as she walked down aisle toward my brother. Yeah, she was a total bitch, but I couldn't deny that she loved my brother fiercely, and I was happy for them. Well, happy for him. Kind of. _Maybe bitchy, bossy blondes were his kink? _I shuddered, images of them that I can never un-see, popping into my head. _Yeah, Emmett definitely liked bossy._

Regardless of my feelings for the bride, it was Emmett's day and I had promised myself that I wouldn't be a black, emo cloud hovering over it. I made a concerted effort to keep, if not a smile, then at least a pleasant expression on my face at all times. It wasn't the easiest task I've ever undertaken, but I loved my brother…even if he was a giant douche marrying a raging bitch.

My eyes were drawn to Bella throughout the ceremony. Her eyes seemed to be on me, just as often as my eyes were on her. As my brother and Rose pledged their eternal love and devotion to one another, I had to tear my eyes away from Bella; I had no right to look at her the way. I forced myself to look at Charlotte, sitting a few rows behind my mother; after all, we had appearances to keep up.

While I could barely disguise my longing for the woman standing opposite me, Charlotte was the very definition of the doting girlfriend. Her eyes were always on me, but they would light up so brightly each time they met mine that I couldn't help returning it with a small smile of my own. Then I would feel Bella's eyes on me, and guilt would rock me. The whole situation had become so fucked up, and I didn't know what I could do to fix it, especially with Bella determined to ignore me. I was struck by a depressing thought: _what if things didn't need fixing, and this was how things were always meant to be?_

I didn't love Char the way I should, but I knew we could be averagely happy together if I just gave up the ghost on a relationship with Bella. If I really wanted to be with her, I would have ended things with Charlotte—I knew this; every second I stayed with her destroyed my chances of being with Bella—but I was a scared little pussy. Not only couldn't I stand the idea of hurting Char, I hated, even more so, the thought of doing so if it was for nothing. Being alone while Bella carried on with her life, was something I couldn't fathom; there was no way I would make it. I was fucked-damned if I do, damned if I don't, and it was all a disaster of my own making.

In my head, I pictured Bella standing beside me in a white dress, promising to love me forever, and my gaze locked onto her, once again. A soft smile graced my lips as I raised my eyes to her face, only to be met by an expression that was so contrary to what I was feeling, that it nearly knocked the air out of my lungs (and certainly the wind out of my sails). The look she shot me was so venomous, so full of loathing that I nearly choked on the fumes. Not wanting to earn another glare, I kept my eyes focused on the back of my brother's head, lost in thought, for the rest of the ceremony.

Her reaction to me so far throughout the day hadn't been very encouraging, but despite that and everything else I had going against me, I somehow couldn't believe that things were how they were meant to be.

…_don't give the ghost up just clench your fist, you should have known by now you were on my list_…

~∞Ѿ∞~

* * *

**Songs Used  
**(In Order of Appearance):_  
Spitting Venom, _Modest Mouse_  
Mourning Air,_ Portishead_  
My List,_ The Killers

**Chapter Notes:**  
1. _…these violent delights have violent endings_… - Act II, Scene VI, _Romeo & Juliet, _William Shakespeare

**Fic Recs:  
**_Beautiful Complications_, Discordia81  
_A Night With the Royal Staff, _MrsK81_  
He's Lost Control_, fliegendamsel_  
The Slowest Burn_, TypoKween_  
Stay or Leave, _Meggee  
_Unanswered Prayers, _SparklingTwilight _  
shine, _Tianiichan_  
Prey for the Wicked, _Aleeab4u_  
Pieces of Us. _Aleeab4u

**A/N:** I keep forgetting to mention, I have contributed an outtake to the Fandom for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society. A $5.00 donation gets you a compilation of fics from your favorite authors. Time is running out to donate. For more information: http:/fandom4lls(.)blogspot(.)com/?zx=70ee28259e48f2ea


	14. Chapter 14 You've Got to Hide Your Love

**Disclaimer: **S. Meyer owns all recognizable characters, plots, etc. Only original content, characters, etc. belongs to author. No copyright infringement intended. Any errors contained herein, are expressly the fault of the authors idiocy, and not her betas.

**Word Count:** 6993

**A/N:** As always, thanks to V for fixing the weird, random shit I do, and thanks to Redvelvetheaven for keeping me from fucking this whole thing up.

And thanks to everyone for continuing to read and review. My apologies for the lengthy wait between chapters as of late. Red says I can blame it on her, but I won't throw her under the bus like that. She has a lot on her plate right now, as does V, but I couldn't do this without them, so if I have to wait for them to get to my chapters, I'm willing. I only hope you all are, as well. (The next chapter is nearly ready to send to Red now, I just need to finish writing the last bit of it and do an initial edit.)

We are getting close to the end now—around four chapters left. I think.

Anyway, I'll let you go read.

* * *

**Chapter 14 – You've Got to Hide Your Love Away**

* * *

_Here I stand with head in hand  
Turn my face to the wall  
If she's gone I can't go on  
Feeling two foot small  
Everywhere people stare  
Each and everyday  
I can hear them laugh at me  
And I hear them say . . .  
. . . How can I even try?  
I can never win  
Seeing them, hearing them  
In the state I'm in  
How could she say to me  
"Love will find a way"?  
Gather 'round all you clowns  
Let me hear you say;  
Hey, you've got to hide your love away  
Hey, you've got to hide your love away_

_- The Beatles (but I like Pearl Jam's cover a lot)_

.

~∞Ѿ∞~

.

**Previously . . .**

_In my head, I pictured Bella standing beside me in a white dress, promising to love me forever, and my gaze locked onto her, once again. A soft smile graced my lips as I raised my eyes to her face, only to be met by an expression that was so contrary to what I was feeling, that it nearly knocked the air out of my lungs (and certainly the wind out of my sails). The look she shot me was so venomous, so full of loathing that I nearly choked on the fumes. Not wanting to earn another glare, I kept my eyes focused on the back of my brother's head, lost in thought, for the rest of the ceremony._

_Her reaction to me so far throughout the day hadn't been very encouraging, but despite that and everything else I had going against me, I somehow couldn't believe that things were how they were meant to be._

…don't give the ghost up just clench your fist, you should have known by now you were on my list…

.

~∞Ѿ∞~

.

"And now the bride and groom would like to invite their wedding party to join them for a dance."

This was it. We'd been warned about it, had been given plenty of time to get used to the idea, but none of it had helped. Knowing something hypothetically and actually having it happen are worlds apart.A mix of fear and excitement coursed through me at the announcement and, for a moment, I thought I was going to be sick.

Though internally, my mind and body were rioting, on the outside I was cool as a cucumber, managing to pretend that I wasn't eager to hold her in my arms, to feel her against me (even if it was for a single dance), and nervous that she would reject me.

"I guess we'd better . . ." I trailed off, finishing my sentence by pointing over my shoulder with my thumb. My other hand worried at the ring in the pocket of my pants.

"Right . . ." Her tone matched mine: casual reluctance with an implication of awkwardness. I could only hope that, like me, eagerness was hidden somewhere behind it, but I didn't think I was that lucky.

. . . _let's dance, put on your red shoes and dance the blues_ . . .

Behaving as the gentleman Esme raised me to be, I rose, helped Bella from her chair, and then, after offering my arm, led her to the center of the room. The music started just as we stepped onto the dance floor, a soft spotlight suddenly shining down on us. Tension thrummed through Bella the second the beam hit us, no doubt feeling all of the watching eyes. Distracted, she continued forward after I halted, her hand sliding from my elbow down my forearm. Our palms met first, and then our eyes and I gripped her hand.

"_And palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss._" The words slipped out with my breath before I could stop them.

"_Have not saints lips, and holy palmers, too?_" Bella recited the next line automatically, gasping when she realized what she'd said.

Panic bloomed in her—_What the fuck is she so afraid of_?—and her eyes darted around as if worried someone had overheard. When they returned to mine, she looked ready to bolt. I needed to act fast, to let go of what had just happened, and distract her from whatever it was that had her so spooked. Luckily, at that exact moment, she hit the end of the line, brought to an abrupt halt by our arms stretched tight between us.

. . . _let's dance, for fear your grace should fall_ . . .

She all but fell into me, my arms wrapping around her before she could stumble again, and then it was panic that was blooming on her face.

"Graceful as always, I see," I chuckled with a soft smile on my face, adding even more softly, serious now, "Relax, Bells, I've got you." _And she did._

. . . _let's dance, for fear tonight is all_ . . .

She was so close, yet still too far away, and the urge to pull her ever closer . . . _always closer_ . . . was strong as I waltzed us around the parquet floor. I wanted it so much, but was well aware of the eyes upon us, watching intently, searching for any improprieties they could use against us; the last thing I wanted was to cause a scene. Not that I thought Char would, but who the hell knew. She hadn't been acting like herself since the night of Em and Rose's party. Her reactions were slightly off, and there was something else strange . . . but I couldn't put my finger on it.

.

~∞Ѿ∞~

.

"_I can't sit with you at the reception?" she repeated. "Why not?"_

"_Rose only wants the wedding party seated on the dais." Knowing my explanation wouldn't be enough, I shrugged my shoulders as if to say, '_It's her fucking wedding; I don't know why anything is the way it is, and there's nothing I can do about it regardless._' _

_Honestly, though, that wasn't the entire truth. Knowing Rose like I did, I was pretty sure that her not caring for mine and Bella's dates influenced—hell, inspired—the seating arrangements, but I wasn't going to voice to my suspicions._

"_Right," she snorted mirthlessly. Her next words—well thought out and carefully spoken—surprised me. "Well . . . I'm not exactly thrilled about it—I'm not really going to know anyone there—but I don't have to like it; it is her wedding."_

"_O-okay," I stuttered, repeating what she'd said in my head, but not quite believing it._

"_What? Why are you looking at me like that?" she demanded after taking in my dumbfounded expression. _

"_Just . . ." _surprised, I guess_, I finished in my head, keeping the words to myself. She was taking the news much better than I expected. I had anticipated a fight, or maybe I wanted a fight—I don't know—and her not giving me one definitely threw me off. Char was still looking at me, waiting for me to finish. I cleared my throat. ". . . how exactly am I looking at you, hmm?"_

_My tone was playful, if not a bit choked still. Charlotte noticed—a brief second of panic that I couldn't explain, flashing across her face—but she shockingly ignored it . . . which annoyed me even though it was what I had been hoping for._

"_Oh, I don't know," she answered coyly. _

_I felt sick. It had only been a couple of days since I'd slept with Bella and I'd been keeping my distance from Charlotte, avoiding physical contact with her like the she had the plague; I just couldn't go there, couldn't do that to either of them. Just contemplating it made me feel as if I was being unfaithful to both of them simultaneously, a weird juxtaposition since Char was the only one I owed any fidelity. But then again, not really; Charlotte may have my present and presence, but Bella had my past and still had my heart._

_I suddenly felt alien to myself. Just a year and a half ago, I wouldn't have batted an eye—at least not consciously—about being with two different girls in such a short time. Hell, I would have happily slept with Char the same night I slept with Bella – possibly in the cab on our way to her place and then again when we finally got there. Now look at me, how much I had changed due to Bella. But as much as I had changed, I still remained so much the same . . . the situation I found myself in with Bella and Char proof of it. _

_Bitterness crept up on me. I found myself both pleased with the man I'd become and disappointed about the man I still had yet to be. I didn't deserve Charlotte _or _Bella. Not really._

_I realized then that I couldn't continue on the path I was on. Staying with Charlotte while chasing after Bella only served as proof that she had made the right decision when she left me, that I hadn't changed at all—was maybe even more of a monster than I had been back then—and that I still couldn't be trusted. And Bella possessing my heart while maintaining my relationship with Charlotte was doing the same thing to her that I had done to Bella. I could tell myself all I wanted that it was different—that Charlotte knew where my heart really lay, that I'd been honest with her from the start—but I had maintained the façade for so long, done nothing to dissuade her of my affection and, in fact, had propagated it, for long enough now that I knew it wasn't. _

_I still needed to tell Char about the dance, but in a sudden attack of either conscience or cowardice, I found myself unable, or perhaps just unwilling, to tell her. The way she was looking at me—with such devotion and . . . love—was too much. I couldn't be responsible for breaking two women the same way. I knew I was going to have to choose. _

_Bella had made it perfectly clear how she felt about me; she might have given me her body, but that was all she had given me and it had made me feel cheap and used. _That must have been how I had made her feel for all those years. _I couldn't fix things with her, but . . . perhaps I could still be saved. I suddenly looked at Charlotte in a different light, thinking, _Maybe she can be my redemption_. _

_At that moment, I came to a decision. I would give Bella what she wanted—I would leave her alone and let her be happy—and I would give Charlotte and me a real go. _

_Smiling, I shrugged off the feeling that I was making the wrong decision and took the bait. "You don't know, huh? I bet I could help you figure it out." _

"_I think I'm starting to get an idea, Dr. Cullen, but I could use a hint." _

. . . _let's sway, you could look into my eyes_ . . .

.

~∞Ѿ∞~

.

I made good on my decision, locking Bella away deep in my heart and devoting myself to seeing things through with Char. I even went so far as to invite her to stay over at my place for the first time ever, letting her fully into my life. So what if it felt as if I was missing a large portion of myself? I told myself it was only because Bella had been such a large part of my being for so long that I was bound to feel her absence for a while, and that eventually Charlotte would fill that space and make me feel complete. And when I reminded myself that I hadn't felt that same hollow absence while Bella had been gone, I ignored it.

It had worked, too . . . until the second I glimpsed Bella again and then all my resolutions went to shit.

So yeah, I needed to be careful before Char caught on.

. . . _and if you say run, I'll run with you_ . . .

My selfish, Bella-deprived side told me that if I was already in trouble, I might as well enjoy myself and do something to warrant it. However, my protective side reminded that doing so would only make Bella's life more difficult, and I couldn't fathom doing that to her. I'd caused her enough trouble already. So, I walked a wire, trying to balance somewhere between what I wanted and what was right, taking as much as I could without causing either of us any problems.

. . . _and if you say hide, we'll hide_ . . .

At some point—entirely unbeknownst to me—I lost my balance as we got lost in each other's eyes and started to fall, and as much as we both wanted to, neither of us could look away, the pull between us was too strong. The moment seemed too big for words, but I opened my mouth to speak anyway, feeling the need to say something. Big brown eyes, solemn and reverent, widened, and with a slow, almost imperceptible shake of her head, I was silenced. I nodded, pulled her closer, and then allowed myself to relax and bask in the moment and her arms. Everything else fell away, just like it always had, leaving just her and I.

. . . _because my love for you would break my heart in two_ . . .

Something was rising between us—and it wasn't just me—and I was certain she felt it, too. _Both things._ She raised her eyebrows at me in that cute way she had—she still hadn't learned how to raise just one, but it calmed me because some things never change—and gave me a wry look. _Really, Edward? Now? _Embarrassed to be called out on my hard-on, I had the decency to look abashed, but at the same time, I was thrilled she wasn't running from me . . . _or it_. I gave a slight shrug. _ Sorry, can't help it. _And it was true – I _couldn't_ help my body's reaction where she was involved.

. . . _if you should fall into my arms and tremble like a flower_ . . .

Before we knew it, the song was over, the live band being replaced by the D.J., the rest of the guests were being invited to join the bride and groom on the dance floor, and Bella was suddenly slipping apologetically from my arms as she gazed at someone . . . _Dickhead Dog, I assumed_ . . . behind me. Which of us her contrition was for to—him or me—I couldn't tell. My fingers reflexively tightened around her wrist just before it slipped from my grasp, allowing her to walk away.

I shoved my empty hands into my pockets, my right hand immediately wrapping around the ring I had secreted there and clenching it so tightly that if it hadn't already held a diamond, it would have when I was through with it. The pain of the setting slicing into my palm grounded me and helped me focus, but did little to help me regain rationality.

. . . _let's dance, to the song we're playing_ . . .

"Why would she leave when we both know she doesn't want to?" I asked the heavens, hoping Bella would hear.

She did and she halted. Hesitating for a moment, she squared her shoulders before turning to face me with a pleasant but fake smile painted on her face.

"The song is over, Edward," she stated as if I didn't know it.

"No shit," I jeered with an edge to my voice, unable to hide my aggravation. Over her shoulder, at the edge of the wood floor, I noticed Jacob looking at us with concern, so I forcefully smoothed out my sneer into some semblance of a smile because the last thing I needed was for him to come over just then.

My brother and Rose would never forgive me for starting a brawl at their wedding reception, no matter who threw the first punch, and I was fairly certain that was exactly what would happen if he were to interrupt. A small amount of self-satisfaction bled through my mask at the thought of my fist connecting with his face, my small smile becoming bigger and more genuine, growing until it bordered on a cocksure smirk as I returned my attention to Bella.

I didn't have any charming speeches prepared, or flowery words meant to woo her back into my arms. _Pshaw, as if flowery words would work._ Truth be told, I didn't have a fucking clue what to say to her, so I just went with what I knew to be the truth, stating plainly, "The song might be over, Bella, but we're not."

She stiffened, her eyes clouding over and her forehead scrunching up. Her gaze left my face, shifting to look past me, and whatever she saw there caused steel shutters to slam down on her eyes and thick walls to rise between us. The suddenness with which her guard came up was a blow that nearly knocked me on my ass, but far worse was the way her next words deflated me.

"We never even started, Edward." The expression on her face was one that I'd never before seen there, so full of vehemence and choler that it nearly choked me. She turned to leave again, but I grasped her wrist, stopping her.

My smile fell, nearly disappearing completely, but I caught it and myself at the last second when I remembered who was watching. Feeling as if it were an Herculean act, my face became a study in politeness that belied the tone of my voice.

"Stop fucking lying, Isabella!" I growled. The anger surging through me needed to find an outlet, and my grip on her wrist unintentionally tightened.

"Ouch, Edward, you're hurting me; let go." I relaxed my fingers the second I heard her soft whimper, but I refused to let her go, telling myself that if she truly wished to get away from me, she wouldn't be struggling so feebly, but I wasn't sure that it wasn't another lie I was telling myself.

I bent down just enough to bring my face level with hers, wearing my earnest desperation on my sleeve, no longer caring at all who might see.

"I don't believe you, Bella. _You_ don't even believe you. When are you going to just admit that you still feel something for me? That you don't love him?" I demanded.

We were both shaking and standing much too closely, practically touching as we snarled into one another's ear. It was surprising that we hadn't yet aroused suspicion or been interrupted, but why would anyone, excepting the few sets of eyes with reason, find anything worrisome about the Best Man and Maid of Honor having a private conversation? To most everyone, it likely appeared that we were having a reception related pow-wow. Even the scrutinizing eyes of our families and close friends couldn't _really_ have found anything outwardly inappropriate about our behavior. _I think. Mostly._

"When, Bella?" I asked again, more forcefully this time.

Her face twisted with what appeared to be either unadulterated disgust or extreme agony. _Maybe I'd pushed her too far? _

"The only thing I feel for you is sorry because you can't face reality. There is nothing between you and I now and, as far as I'm concerned, there never was. I am nothing more to you than your sister's best friend, and the girl you used for sex once upon a time," she spat with steel and fire, adding after a moment in a softer voice, "And I do love him . . . not that it's any of your business."

_Definitely too far, but since I was already one toe over the line . . . might as well keep going. In for a penny, in for a pound, as they say._

She turned away from me with a jerk, wresting herself free of my slackened hold and walking to _him_ with nary a glance back at me. _This conversation is not fucking over,_ I silently vowed, the pledge the only clear thought in my fragmented mind.

Before she could take more than a step—like a child, but still with a smile on my face so as not to alert the Pound Puppy who was still watching me with barely disguised loathing (_What? Alice had them when we were kids, and I wasn't always a shitty brother.)_—I flung bitter words at her back. "Keep trying to convince yourself of that, Isabella. Maybe one day you'll actually believe it."

All too soon she was far away from me and beside him. Rage clouded my mind when I saw her willingly lean into him as he wrapped her up in his arms and then held her while they briefly conversed. _ She was doing that shit on purpose, flaunting him in my face. _Well, fine. If that was how she wanted to play it . . . game on. She allowed him to shift her to his side, wrapping her arm around his waist as he tucked her under his, and then guide her toward his assigned table and their fathers.

Hand extended in greeting, dog-boy was slobbering all over Charlie before they even reached him, and Charlie ate it up. Gripping his hand, the Chief tugged him forward into the universal 'not gay!' man-hug, complete with back slap and chest bump . . . _literally _giving the over-eager pup a pat on the back. The pup had to bend down—doing so without letting Bella go—to return the gesture, allowing me to catch a glimpse of the big grin on Charlie's face. Dude hadn't been gone from the table for even five minutes and Charlie looked tickled fucking pink that he'd returned! I watched, trying to shake it off, but the red haze obscuring my vision grew steadily worse.

_Family don't shake hands; family gotta hug! _The modified words of _Tommy Boy_ popped into my brain, the memory of the look on Rob Lowe's face as Chris Farley embraced him took some of the stinging bitter out of the sight before me. Still, I wanted to cry or blow my brains out or . . . something. I needed to leave, but my feet wouldn't budge, so I needed a distraction . . . _something _. . . _anything_ . . . to keep me from losing my shit. What I really wanted to do was go somewhere . . . _over to that table _. . . and punch the fuck out of something . . . _preferably someone_ . . . but I wasn't going to let that happen.

Instead, I was going to suck it up, and be the better man. For a little while, at least, until everyone forgot about me, and I could slip away and collect myself. In the meantime, really needed that distraction.

_Ask and ye shall receive_ . . .

My date suddenly materialized before me—not looking very happy, I might add. At best, she was a half-assed distraction as she only partially blocked my view and barely drew my attention. And just to spice things up (because some higher power . . . _Loki maybe, or perhaps Eris? Better yet, Ate . . . _obviously had it out for me), the moment Charlotte appeared, Bella finally chose to look back at me, craftily . . . _gratingly_ . . . disguising it as affection for Jake. She turned into his side, wrapping her arms around his middle and lifting her chin to rest on his arm, allowing her eyes to seek me out. Taken in by her ruse, the mutt swiftly swooped in and pressed his lips to hers, lingering as long as was acceptable in her father's presence.

As much as I didn't like having to witness it, I could have tolerated it had Bella not lifted up on her toes as he pulled back, drawing their kiss out as long as possible. Bella's heels back on the ground, their lips separated and he continued chatting with the Chief while Bella squished her face against his dark suit-covered bicep. Her eyes immediately back on me and, for one unguarded, fleeting moment, I swore I saw something that looked an awful lot like regret . . . _doubtful; stop imagining things_ . . . but she blinked, hiding her emotions once more.

The already volatile cocktail of emotions coursing through my blood was growing even more toxic the longer I watched her, but I couldn't tear my eyes away. My emotions twisted and turned inside of me, forming something new, something destructive and dark. Experiencing another shift, each emotion became negative particles, and seeing the shutters come down over the windows to my soul split the atom of my heart in two, setting off an uncontrollable chain reaction.

My splitting heart collided with my jealousy, which collided with my possessiveness, colliding with my desire, with my need, with my hurt and so on and so forth. Incapable of harnessing it, I exploded. It was my personal Hiroshima.

I was Maximus the gladiator, Hammurabi, and Shylock all rolled into one, wanting my vengeance, an eye for an eye, and my judgment and my bond. My thoughts were unforgiving and vindictive as I pulled Charlotte against me, wound myself around her, welded our lips together and then proceeded to give her the most over-the-top, ostentatious, lustful kiss imaginable . . . all while staring Bella straight in the eye. _ Take that! Two can play at this game._

What I had forgotten, and what the look on Bella's face reminded me, was that Maximus died for his vengeance, Hammurabi's Code was illogical, and Shylock got more justice than he desirest. I had just cut off my own foot. I was such a fucking fool.

By the time I ended the kiss with Char, Bella had mastered her emotions. The flash of hate, anger and hurt that had momentarily overtaken her were gone, and in their place was a small, contented smile that would have been believable if it weren't for the distraction in her unseeing eyes as she gazed off into space. A cursory glance told me that no one else noticed the showdown that had just taken place, and I smiled. However, it was a hollow kind of satisfaction and my spirits plummeted back to the gutter where they belonged.

I was abruptly yanked back into the here and now, my focus pulled away from Bella, by Charlotte, standing _right _in front of me with a face-splitting grin, jabbering on about something or other; I wasn't listening, as usual. She was so close to me that she eclipsed Bella in my sight (but never in my eyes), and I found myself leaning from side to side, trying to see around her, but she matched me move for move until I finally had no choice but to give in.

". . . haven't heard a word I just said, have you? Edward? Hello. . . earth to Edward. Come in, Edward," she taunted, the pissy pre-kiss expression slowly returning.

"Hmmm? What was that?" I responded, still distracted.

Char huffed, pulling a way a bit and crossing her arms. Annoyance surged through me and I just barely managed to keep myself from snapping at her. Instead, I took a deep breath, holding it as I allowed myself a final, longing glance at Bella from over Char's shoulder. Shaking my head to clear it as I slowly exhaled, I brought my focus and eyes back to Charlotte.

"I'm sorry, that was rude. I just spaced off. You were saying."

"I was wondering what in the hell brought that on . . . not that I'm complaining or anything; it was just unexpected."

I didn't know what to say. I certainly couldn't tell the truth. _I kissed you in retaliation for Bella cozying up to her boyfriend in front of me. _Yeah, that definitely wouldn't have gone over well. Putting on my most charming smile, I fed her a line. "Oh, you know – gotta keep you on your toes. Would you like to dance?"

She blushed prettily—although she had nothing on Bella's—and extended her hand. "I'd love to."

_Longest three and a half minutes of my life._ I pulled her off the floor as soon as the song was over, citing needing to prepare to give my best man's speech as my excuse why I needed to run. Truthfully, I just couldn't stand being so near her with my hands on her in such a familiar way in front of Bella. Luckily, I didn't have to do so for long. Just minutes after having replaced Bella with Charlotte in my arms, Alice discreetly warned the wedding party that we were needed back to our table.

With an apologetic look and shrug of my shoulders, I _reluctantly _led Char back to her seat near my parents before making my way back to the front of the room. Speeches were made, toasts were given, the cake was cut—no, Em did not smash cake in her face, to my disappointment—and then the guests were encouraged to get down. Through it all—no matter what I was doing, whom I was with, or where I was at in the room—my attention remained fixed on Bella, plotting, waiting, anticipating the moment I could finally get her alone to continue our conversation. _I had the patience of a saint for waiting as long as I had._

More than an hour after we parted ways, I saw her quietly slip from the room after speaking with my sister, leaving through a door hidden in the wood paneled wall.

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~∞Ѿ∞~

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. . . _no, I can't forget this evening or your face as you were leaving_, _but I guess that's just the way the story goes_ . . .

Standing across from Bella throughout the ceremony, listening to vows that I almost certainly would never get to say to her, had been the best—or worst—reminder of everything I'd forfeited because I was a fucking fool. And then dancing with her, holding her so close, and having to pretend that none of it meant anything . . . The way she'd gazed at me with that expression on her face that made me believe that she felt the exact same way . . . _Wrong again, dipshit._ Throughout the day, all of these moments had piled on top of me, burying me so deeply that it was hard to breathe and Bella was the only one who could make it right, so I went to her.

. . . _you always smile but in your eyes your sorrow shows, yes, it shows_ . . .

I made my way over to the hidden door as quickly as I could without drawing any undue attention, and slipped through it just in time to see Bella disappear around a corner at the far end of the long hallway. A quick look around to assure that no one I knew was near, and I set off, all but sprinting to catch up to her. Bella moved decisively through the catacomb-like maze of halls, while I trailed after her, staying just far enough back to not be caught. We really needed to have this conversation alone, so I couldn't go revealing my cards—or myself—too soon.

She eventually came to a stop outside of a generic hotel room door, pulling a key card out of the tiny purse thing hanging from her wrist and swiping it through the key reader while I hovered silently around the corner, watching and waiting. The moment she entered the room, pulling the door closed behind her, I made my way over to it . . . to her. I allowed myself a brief smile when I saw that it hadn't closed all the way; she was making catching her alone much easier than I hoped.

As much as I wanted to seize the moment and rush inside—guns a blazin', so to speak—I forced myself to exercise caution. After all, I didn't know if she was alone. So, I hesitated just outside pressing my ear against the crack and listening intently for any sign that she had company. Only when I was as sure as I could be that she was alone, did I hold my breath, say a quick prayer to the patron saints of ex-lovers, unrequited love and stalkers . . . _do they even exist? Has to be; there is a patron saint for everything_ . . . close my eyes, and creep inside.

Stepping inside the room, I froze with my hand still on the door knob, just waiting for . . . _something._ When the shrieking didn't come, no objects were thrown at me, and I hadn't been attacked, I opened my eyes and stared into the . . . _empty_ room? _Dude, some tracker you are. You did creep into the correct room, right?_ I flipped the Doubting Thomas in my head the bird because it was _so_ not the time for that shit, and took inventory of the sitting room and adjacent dining area of what appeared to be a rather nice suite just as Bella stepped out of an unnoticed doorway on the far side of the room.

I braced myself for her reaction to seeing me, but her eyes passed right over me as she turned away, fully focused on her task and completely oblivious to my presence. Her back to me and lost in her own thoughts, she made her way to the teak credenza at the back of the room to search through the assortment of bags and girly clutter littering it. I stared at her eagerly, indulging in the opportunity to observe her unawares; she was so completely natural and just . . . _herself_, and it was beautiful. _What the fuck? What is she, the honeybadger being observed in her natural habitat? This isn't the Discovery Channel. Yeah, but if it was, you know what you would be doing . . . _

. . . _you and me baby ain't nothing but mammals, so let's do it like they do on the Discovery Channel_ . . .

Shut the fuck up, self!

A barely audible sound in the previously silent room hit my ears—a soft humming broken up by muttered curses and grumbles—putting a halt to my anthypophora. I nearly chuckled, it was just so _Bella_—_my _Bella—but there was something familiar about the tune that kept me from enjoying more. As I listened intently, trying to figure out what she was humming, I noticed how at ease she seemed to be for the first time all day and I almost left right then, loathe to ruin the small bit of peace she appeared to have found. And then the name of the tune popped into my head; I shut the door behind me, the sound of it ringing out like a gunshot in the room.

She had been humming the lullaby I wrote for her. I felt like an idiot for not recognizing it immediately—I knew that song better than I knew the sound of my own voice, and what kind of idiot doesn't know his own song?—but I chalked it up to distraction, both her and her muttering.

Bella froze, but didn't turn around. She didn't need to. Her hands moved to the edge of the table and she took a deep breath, bracing herself.

"Edward," she said resignedly. I smiled, knowing that she still felt our connection too, that I wasn't the only one.

"Bella," I replied.

"What are you doing here?"

"We need to talk."

"I think we've said everything we need to say." She finally turned around to face me. "You need to leave, Edward," she commanded, eyeballing me. When I made no move to obey, she added with an annoyed huff, "Now."

Despite the distance between us, I shoved my hands in my pockets to keep them from reaching for her. My mouth was suddenly dry and I licked my lips before hoarsely responding, "No."

"Edward, you need to go. I'm not doing this—" she gestured back and forth between the two of us, "—so just leave me alone. We are through, okay? You've, yet again, made that more than apparent, and I've moved on. Just go; there's nothing left to talk about." The tiniest little waver to her voice taught me hope again, but it disappeared with another angry huff from her.

"Fine. You know what? I'll just go, then. Rosalie didn't really need her Goddamned garter anyway. She'll just have to learn to live with disappointment like everyone else."

She stormed towards the door, snatching her purse up from an armchair as she passed, not thinking about the fact that I stood between her and the door. Her steps faltered the moment she realized her mistake, but it was too late, I already had my arms wrapped around her, holding her against my chest.

Bella was a statue, stiff and unresponsive in my arms. I didn't like it. I desperately needed _something_ from her—anger, glibness, spite . . . hell, I'd even take her tears as much as it killed me to see her cry. Anything was better than the cold, marble nothing I was getting.

I needed a moment to gather myself and figure out what to do, so I buried my face in the crook of her neck, breathing her in and savoring the heady scent while tightening my arms around her for a moment. She was intoxicating. I pressed my face further into her flesh and partook of the bouquet until I felt drunk on the perfume of her, the _feel_ of her; I became a hedonistic being and gave in to my baser desires.

A soft, open mouthed kiss to the base of her neck and then I was tracing a line up the length of it to nuzzle into that spot behind her ear where her scent was always most potent. I placed an open-mouthed kiss against the spot, flicking the tip of my tongue out to taste her, and a soft breath of a moan slipped from her lips. The corners of my mouth turned up. I knew she wasn't as immune as she had been pretending.

My delight was only momentary, because in the next second she wrenched herself free, whirled around launched herself at me . . . _and __I will strike_ down _upon__thee_ _with great __vengeance__ and furious anger those who would attempt to poison and destroy_ . . . unleashing years of repressed anger and hurt upon me as if seeking to take her retribution from my hide . . . _a pound of flesh is thine_ . . . I couldn't deny her that, so I didn't. I took every slap, every strike, every blow, as a litany of charges rained down upon me; one for each hit I took.

_Smack_.

"That's for fucking Tanya!"

_Slap._

"For two fucking years!"

_Slap. Thwack. _

"While you were sleeping with me!"

_Smack._

"That's for lying to me!"

She was rapidly approaching hysterical, and I needed to calm her down before she lost it; we did still have a wedding and dates to return to . . . unfortunately.

_Slap._

"Bella," I said, trying to get her attention as I attempted to restrain her again before she hurt herself with her wilder growing swings.

"And that's for breaking my heart!"

That just pissed me off. She was acting as if my heart wasn't broken, like she wasn't still breaking it.

_Thwack._

"And that's for having a girlfriend!" she wailed, sobbing tearlessly at this point.

_Hypocrite!_

Both fists came down on my chest with a dull thud, and I wrapped my fingers tightly around her wrists before she could pull them away to wind up again, my own anger sharpening my reflexes. I had her trapped so swiftly that Bella was already halfway through shouting the next item on the long list of my crimes against her before she realized it.

"And that's for . . . "

"That's enough, Isabella!" I shouted, shaking her.

. . . _no, I can't forget tomorrow when I think of all my sorrows_ . . .

Her mouth snapped shut to keep her from biting her tongue as I shook her, and I decided to call her out on her bullshit. I could admit that I'd fucked up a lot—I knew that _now_—but she wasn't blameless.

. . . _when I had you there but then I let you go_ . . .

"You're such a fucking hypocrite. You were with him long before there was anything between Charlotte and me, so don't even go there," I warned, surprised but pleased by the guilt that flashed in her eyes even if it was only briefly.

. . . _and now it's only fair that I should let you know what you should know_ . . .

"And stop acting like you're the only one who got hurt. Fuck, Bella! You're still hurting me – every time you avoid me, every time you push me away, every cutting remark you make, and every time I see you with him, letting him touch you, kiss you . . . If you think that doesn't hurt me, well . . . you're fucking wrong.

"I know I fucked up! I know this, but you . . . you never even gave me the chance to fix it, to make it up to you and prove that I could be the kind of man that deserves you. And I would do that, Bella. I would spend every single day of forever proving that to you. Just give me the chance to prove it to you . . ." I trailed off, not having a clue how to go about doing that.

Bella licked her lips, drawing my eyes and thoughts to them, until they were all I could see, all I could think of. Suddenly, I knew how to prove myself. _Or maybe I was justifying my next actions?_

. . . _I can't live if living is without you_ . . .

Releasing her hands, I grasped her shoulders and yanked her to me, trapping her hands against my chest between us. One arm slid down her back, anchoring her to me, while the other moved up to grip her hair and bring her mouth to mine. I kissed her hard and fast, slow and soft. I teased her unresponsive lips with my teeth and tongue and mouth until her hands stopped trying to push me away and instead grabbed onto my shirt and pulled me closer.

When she began kissing me back, I knew I was lost.

. . . _I can't live, I can't give any more_ . . .

I pulled away a little, breaking the kiss. Gasping, I warned her, "Bella, if you want me to stop, you have to tell me now. I don't think . . . I won't be able to if we continue."

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~∞Ѿ∞~

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**Songs Used  
**(In Order of Appearance):  
_Let's Dance,_ David Bowie  
_Without You_, Harry Nillson (and countless others)  
_Bad Touch, _The Bloodhound Gang

**Chapter Notes:**  
1. _And palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss._ … _Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?_" – Act I, Scene V, _Romeo and Juliet_

2. _Family don't shake hands; family's gotta hug! _– from the film _Tommy Boy_, theoriginal line is, '_Brothers don't shake hands, brothers gotta hug!' _ Edward

3. Loki – full explanation is too convoluted, but for the purpose of this story, we'll simplify, he's the Norse God of mischief. (May also be a jötunn (race of giants) or both. For a full explanation, look it up.)

4. Eris – the goddess or spirit (_daimona_) of strife, discord, contention and rivalry. Often represented specifically as the daimon of the strife of war, who haunted the battlefield and delighted in human bloodshed. The golden apple of discord is associated with her. Known to the Romans as Discordia.

5. Ate – daughter of Eris and goddess of delusion, infatuation, blind folly, rash action and reckless impulse who led men down the path to ruin. Her power was countered by her sisters, the Litai (Prayers), who follow her around and clean up her messes.

3. _And __I will strike_ _down __upon thee__ with great_ _vengeance_ _and furious anger those who would attempt to poison and destroy [my brothers, and you will know my name is the Lord when I set my vengeance upon thee.] _– Ezekiel 23;17 (famously used in the film Pulp Fiction by Samuel L. Jackson)

4. …_a pound of flesh is thine_… - Portia, Act 3, _The Merchant of Venice_

**Fic Rec's:  
**_A Cracked and Clouded Mirror_, justaskalice  
_Tantum_, Bitter Shade  
_The Girl_, Dolly3078  
_A Matter of Heart_, TheRealRachelGreen  
_His Bite_, mpg  
_Open Up Next to You_, LJSummers  
_Empty Bloom_, ineedyoursway  
_Blessed Are the Forgetful_,  
_Repudiation_, Mortissues  
_The Cellar_, iambeagle  
_Glimmer Darkly_, Rochelle Allison


	15. Chapter 15 This Love

**Disclaimer: **S. Meyer owns all recognizable characters, plots, etc. Only original content, characters, etc. belongs to author. No copyright infringement intended. Any errors contained herein, are expressly the fault of the authors idiocy, and not her betas.

**Word Count:** 10,327

**A/N:** So, I lied, but only a little bit. There may be more like 5-6 chapters left to go, but only because this chapter was getting way too long and I had to cut it in two. I'm a wordy bitch; it could happen again. My apologies. But on a positive note: Look a new chapter!

Sorry it took so long, but to assure continuity, I needed to get the next couple of chapters fleshed out before I could post. Also, we had a snow/ice storm here and I was without power for a four or five days. I wasn't able to work for entire week because I couldn't get my car out of the garage, so work has been insane busy.

Yes, I know I suck, but the next chapter or two shouldn't take as long to be posted. Don't hold me to that, though. Lord knows I can't stick to deadlines. My usual thanks to the amazing V, the fuckawesome RedVelvetHeaven, and all of you. You're the best.

Also, just keep trusting me. It's not as bad as it looks.

Enjoy, and let me know what you think . . . if you want.

* * *

**Chapter 15 – This Love**

* * *

_Who are we to be emotional?  
Who are we to play with hearts and throw away it all?  
Oh, who are we to turn each other's heads?  
Who are we to find ourselves in other people's beds?_

_Oh, I don't like the way I never listen to myself  
I feel like I'm on fire and I'm trying to cry for help  
Oh, I don't think you owe me much at all_ . . .

. . . _Who are you to make me feel so good?  
Who are we to tell ourselves that we're misunderstood?  
Oh, who am I to say I'm always yours?  
Who am I to choose the boy that everyone adores?_

_Oh, I don't see a reason why we can't just be apart  
We're falling on each other like we're always in the dark  
Oh, I don't think you know me much at all, at all_

_This love is be and end all  
This love will be your downfall_ . . .

_- Ellie Goulding_

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~∞Ѿ∞~

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**Previously**

_I pulled away a little, breaking the kiss. Gasping, I warned her, "Bella, if you want me to stop, you have to tell me now. I don't think . . . I won't be able to if we continue."_

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~∞Ѿ∞~

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My lips were on his the second the last word left his mouth. I wasn't thinking about the consequences, the risk that I was taking, the people that would be hurt . . . none of it mattered. At that moment, everything outside of that room—outside of us—ceased to exist and, as wrong as I knew it to be, it was the most right I'd felt in nearly two years. Not since the last time we were together before he'd fucked me in that bar bathroom. Looking back on it, that night was the beginning of the end. The night his eyes—all warm and filled with what looked a lot like love—refused to move from mine as he drove me to never before reached heights, and then held me tenderly in his arms until dawn broke across the sky and, with it, the 'us' I thought had finally become a possibility.

Sure, we'd been together since that night, but whereas that time had left me full, each time after had left me feeling progressively emptier until that final day in the meadow that had left me hollow, barren and incomplete. Even the weekend before, which had, in a sick, slightly twisted way, felt a little right—a nice symmetry, if you please—wasn't comparable to what I felt in that hotel room when I kissed him. What had happened in the stairwell had been too aggressive, too vengeful on my part. I had wielded sex as a weapon, using it to get the upper hand in a competition in which he was clearly not trying to compete.

This time, however, was nothing like that. This time there was tenderness and worship, even if it wasn't as thorough as it could have been. Knowing we were on borrowed time and that the clock was ticking down lent it an edge of desperation, but every touch was weighted, heavy with meaning and words we couldn't say. His hand skimming the length of my thigh as he shifted my dress up was '_I cherish you_'_._ My nails scratching down his back as I slid down on him, taking him fully inside, was '_You make me feel whole'. _When he caressed my face, tracing my jaw with his fingers, it was '_I miss you_'_._ When I returned the gesture, it was '_Me too – so much'. _

Kissing quickly became not enough. He was everywhere at once, and I followed suit, hands roaming, clutching, grasping, tugging, pushing. Demands were made and acquiesced to, clothing shifted just enough to accommodate, and I found myself poised above him as he sat in an armless chair, our eyes and lips locked as I slowly lowered myself onto him.

With soft gasps, he reached bottom, and neither of us moved, just taking a moment to savor the feeling and feelings. Nothing was sweeter than when we were joined, and if we could stay like that always, everything would be perfect. It was only when we stopped obeying our bodies and hearts, letting our heads—jaded, and chock full of fears and doubts and subversion—guide our relationships with others that everything became fucked up, distorted, and eroded.

We moved together in an easy give and take, push and pull, completing the other's movements and each other. Even as our minds struggled to remember what it was like to be together in such a way, our bodies worked in tangent as if we had never been separated by the miles of land and hurt and betrayal. All too soon, yet a lifetime later, we fell apart together with soft exhalations against parted lips and connected eyes.

And then, just as quickly as it started . . . it all fell apart.

. . . _everything that keeps me together is falling apart_; _I've got this thing that I consider my only art of fucking people over_ . . .

.

~∞Ѿ∞~

.

Something was wrong, but I couldn't say what, just that a strange feeling had come over me. At first it was just the sensation of unsteadiness, but it soon manifested itself as a shaking in my hands that quickly spread through my body in waves that had nothing to do with the orgasm I'd just had. My skin was crawling, and even though I couldn't make sense of my fragmented thoughts or focus on anything beyond the buzzing of my disquiet mind, I knew that I needed to not be touching him. I couldn't think when I was touching him.

In nearly a blind panic—_get away, get away, get away, _being the only thought coming in with any clarity—I rose up just enough to let him slip free of my depths before sliding off of his lap and stepping back to put between us the distance I inherently knew I needed. Almost instantly once I was free of the drugging effects of his skin touching mine, the haze began to clear. From somewhere within the receding buzzing, wisps of thoughts began to form. At first like tendrils of fog, they grew less diaphanous with the retreat of the noise, lucidity returning with its disappearance.

And with lucidity came everything that I had shut out when I'd kissed Edward. I was swamped by a guilt so strong that, just nanoseconds after it hit me, was already threatening to sink me.

_Cheater, cheater . . ._

How could I?

I was a terrible person – the worst kind of person: a cheater. An epiphanic moment, one that I didn't want, but couldn't keep from acknowledging, left me gasping. _I was Edward._ I had turned into the very thing that had damaged me so badly. Worst of all was that it wasn't the first time. Twice, within a week, I had done the one thing I swore I would never do to someone else, to someone who had done nothing wrong except fall in love with me and give me his unblemished heart. It didn't matter that I hadn't meant to do it, hadn't sought it out, either time; I had still done it and now he was going to pay the price.

_He could never know,_ I thought in desperation, knowing damn good and well that those kind of things always had a way of getting out. It was bad enough that I'd committed such a betrayal; I couldn't allow him to be punished by it just as I had been. _I hadn't meant to do it, _came the weak protest inside my head. And it was true. What I said to Edward after the first time in the stairwell, that it was a one-time thing, I'd truly meant.

When the tingling that came from being with him had subsided that night and my emotions started to get the best of me, I had convinced myself that what I had done, fucking him, I had done for the sole purpose of putting Charlotte in her place. It was vindictiveness and a need to feel superior . . . _she wouldn't be feeling so smug if she knew how eager he was to fuck me or that he did it right under her nose. Take that, bitch!_ . . . not the need to be with him, the want of him, that made me do it, and somehow, in my justification seeking mind, that rationalization allowed me to pretend that it hadn't happened. _Mostly._ Making the self-lie easier to believe was the added benefit of giving back to Edward just a little taste of what he'd given me for years.

They were terrible, shallow reasons—believe me, I know—but at the time, they had not only eased the ache of my knowingly committed betrayal, but also soothed my wounded pride. Knowing I had more of a hold on him than she did helped to lessen the hit my fragile ego had taken when I'd found out about her and who she was to him. It made me feel in control and held a certain darkly intoxicating thrill that I would never own up to. Wonder as to whether this was what Edward felt when he screwed around on me (if it could be called that considering we were never _technically_ in a relationship) licked at the back of my mind, but I refused to let it take life, dousing it until it blew away in a puff of smoke. But the scent and embers of it lingered.

This time, however, there was no amount of rationalizing away what I'd done. Nothing I could convince myself of to lessen the gravity of it, because there were no pitiful attempts at revenge or comeuppance driving me to do it; there were no ulterior motives whatsoever. I had done it because I had desperately wanted him, neededhim—_loved _him —and couldn't walk away from him when he was looking at me with so much need, want, _love_, in his own eyes.

I had willingly had sex with Edward in the room where, hours earlier, I had helped one of my best friends prepare to make the ultimate commitment to the love of her life, while my loving and devoted boyfriend sat with my father and his, waiting for me to return to him. It felt like a mockery, and I felt like the biggest piece of shit.

The lowest of the low.

Vile and disgusting and so unworthy of anyone's love.

Backing slowly and carefully away from him, I snatched my wristlet from the floor where I'd dropped it, and then turned away from Edward, straightening and smoothing my dress before rushing to the mirror across the room to check my makeup and hair, all the while, trying not to collapse under the weight of my betrayal.

"Bel . . ."

Studiously avoiding looking at him, I focused intently on my task.

"I need to get back before Alice comes looking for me," I blurted, shutting him up . . . if only for the moment. I didn't want to hear what he had to say – couldn't handle it. Not yet, maybe not ever.

"Bel . . ." he tried again, only to fail. Again.

"I'm sure Charlotte has to be missing you by now," I claimed, a sledgehammer-like reminder of his obligations, "but you should wait at least five minutes after I leave before going back to her."

Apparently, his head was too hard for a sledgehammer, because he spoke once again. _Maybe a diamond-tipped jackhammer would do the trick? _

"Bella!" he snapped in frustration just as I pulled the lipgloss out of my purse to touch-up my now pale but still kiss-swollen lips. I looked at the gloss in my hands, noticing my shaking had worsened. _Jesus-fuck! _It was the last thing needed to make myself presentable before I could leave. "We have to talk about thi . . ."

"No!" I shouted, startling us both. I turned around to face him, meeting his eyes for the first time since that bare moment when we had come together. "We don't. Because nothing happened, and even if it did . . . it didn't mean a thing and it most definitely won't happen again." _You mean it this time, you mean it this time, you mean it this time . . . _I chanted in my head, clenching the tube of lip-gloss so tightly that I thought it would shatter.

I looked down at my hand, forgetting myself for a moment, strangely fascinated by the white of my knuckles . . . _like bone. _I shook my head of the macabre, slightly disturbing thought and focused on the mistake staring at me instead. Edward still seemed stunned—either by the vehemence of my outburst or the fact that he wasn't getting what he wanted, once again. I wondered if his stupor would last long enough for me to actually apply the gloss before I left, but decided not to risk it and just go.

Spinning around, I stormed towards the door, leaving a lost-looking Edward sitting on the throne of betrayal and lies. _Fuck it. I'll have to learn to live without lipgloss, _I thought as I made my escape.

.

~∞Ѿ∞~

.

Despite knowing I should keep on keeping on while the getting was good, I couldn't. The second the latch clicked into place behind me, I fell to the side, letting the wall hold me up while my knees let me down. I was a mess—breath coming in uneven gasps, stomach rolling and roiling, and so shaky I could barely keep myself upright. It felt like I was on the verge of a breakdown, my emotions were so out of control, and for the life of me, I couldn't explain the reaction.

Was it my conscience tying to reconcile the guilt of cheating on Jacob with the guilt of knowing that the last thing I wanted to do was walk away from Edward? Was it something more? _Later. I'll think about it later._

I had been gone for too long; I needed to get back, but I needed to get control of myself first. In a desperate bid to get myself in hand, I pressed my fists as tightly as I could against my thighs, trying to quell their shaking, and concentrated on slowing my breaths. It wasn't until I was starting to calm, that I realized I hadn't heard a peep from the room at my back. I didn't know how much time had passed since I closed the door on him, but it was too long for the room to still be silent. He too needed to get back soon or there was no way his disappearance would go unnoticed . . . _if it had ever. _

His quiet was unnerving, but it also made me curious and I found myself turning my head to press my ear against the wall. Holding my breath, I listened intently, but all was quiet on his western front.

My curiosity proved to be sufficiently distracting; I was no longer shaking like a dog shitting razorblades. I sighed and shook my head. I didn't have time to worry over what Edward was doing . . . _and you shouldn't care, either, _I reminded myself. Worry that someone would notice we were both missing and make assumptions, guessing at the truth, was starting to consume my mind, and that was something that I couldn't allow to happen. Resolved to leaving, I reluctantly pushed away from the wall, nearly stumbling at the inhuman roar and deafening crash that came from inside the room, sudden and jarring.

I spun around to face the room with wide, fretful eyes. I wanted to go to him, make sure he hadn't hurt himself, but callously told myself he wasn't my problem. Going to him would mean . . . so many things, and I wasn't opening that Pandora's Box; the lid to it had barely been closed. Besides, I'd made my decision. Edward was hurt and betrayal and heartache (_but could he be more?_). Jacob was steady and faithful and loving. _I'd made my choice._

And with that, I turned and walked away, never once looking back despite having left so much of myself there.

.

~∞Ѿ∞~

.

"There you are! I've been looking all over for you," Alice cried out, hands in the air in . . . exasperation? frustration? relief? Remembering that I didn't have the item she'd sent me to fetch, I started to panic.

"I was looking for Rose's garter like you asked me to, but I couldn't find it anywhere . . . even though I nearly destroyed the room looking for it." It just slipped out, my covering for whatever damage Edward had done to the room. I told myself I was covering for myself as well, and I was, but it was incidental, not the motivating factor.

Alice bit her lip and sucked in a breath. "Yeah, about that . . ." Something in her tone was off, and I nearly fell to my knees, to prostrate myself before her and beg her forgiveness. Luckily, she plunged forward before I exposed myself for the monster I was.

"Um . . . turns out I had it in my purse the entire time. Sorry. I would have come to get you and let you know, but I needed to stay here and oversee things." _Alice, ever the control freak._ "Plus, I honestly thought you would give up sooner than you actually did."

It was the relief over not having been caught, not the apologetic look on her face that caused the laughter to bubble forth.

She waited, a rueful smile on her face, for my laughter to die down before asking with a chuckle, "So, you're not mad then?"

I rolled my eyes in response. As I was about to assure her that I wasn't, a pair of arms snaked around my waist, pulling me against a broad chest and stealing my words. My body went rigid as dread and nausea washed over me. _Could I face him just yet?_ I didn't think I was ready for it, and the smile on my face faltered briefly. Quickly correcting it, I locked that shit up and tried to relax in his arms. After all, his arms were where I belonged, but I couldn't deny the ping of longing, wishing they were another's arms.

Any hope I had of Alice overlooking my reticent, less than welcoming reception of Jake was dashed as she looked at me appraisingly, eyebrow raised and arms crossed over her chest. Attempting to fool her, I turned my smile up a watt or two and brought my arms up to wrap around Jake's around my middle. Alice didn't bite, cocking her hip and pursing her lips like, _bitch, please!_

_Later,_ I said with an imperceptible shake of my head, praying that she would let it go, but Alice was like a dog with a bone sometimes, and my prayers were falling on deaf ears.

"Where you been, baby?" Jake queried, nuzzling my temple as he gently rocked me from side to side.

I played my part well, tilting my face to bring him into view, my mouth twisted up into a smirk. "Running a fool's errand," I looked back at Ali, wry expression in place, "for Alice and Rose." Smirk back in place, I chuckled, letting Alice know I was teasing. She acknowledged me by sticking her tongue out at me. _Five year old. _

"Well, now that you're back, why don't you come dance with me for a bit." It wasn't really a question as he was already directing me away from Alice and towards the dance floor.

I slowly shook my head. "Jake. No. You know I don't dance." My voice contained a hint of warning.

His held accusation, pleasantly disguised by a teasing tone. "Unless I'm mistaken, I seem to recall you dancing not that long ago . . ." He trailed off, not needing to complete the sentence since we both knew how it ended . . . _with Edward. _

"Because I had to, not because I wanted to," I stated, sounding defensive in spite of my best efforts.

"Well, you looked like you were enjoying it, but . . . if you don't want to dance with me then fine. Whatever." The feel of his shrug annoyed me to no end. My jaw clenched.

Turning in his arms, I attempted to jerk free of his hold. When he wouldn't release me, I leaned back instead, nostrils flaring as I put as much distance between us as his arms would allow.

"I wasn't enjoying it! Are you accusing me of something?" I asked angrily, my guilty conscience only partially to blame for my lashing out at him.

"No, not at all." One arm released me, moving from my lower back and taking one of my hands whereupon he unclenched my fingers and laced them with his own. Joined, he brought them to rest against his chest.

"And now, since we're already in position for dancing . . ." he paused and looked pointedly at the way our hands were joined and our bodies situated against one another, ". . . we might as well do it."

Looking _oh so amused_ that I fell for his trickery, his lips lifted in a sly grin, but I was too irritated to return the smile. Still, as annoyed as I was—as much as I couldn't stand being in his arms after what I'd just done—I knew that any further attempts to get out of dancing would end in an argument that Rose's wedding was neither the time nor place for. _ Besides_, my guilty conscience piped up, _you _did_ dance with Edward. It's only fair that you give your boyfriend a dance, too. _

Gritting my teeth once more, we shuffled our feet for three and a half minutes to some generically sappy love song whose words I chose to ignore. When the song finally came to a warbling close, replaced by something more upbeat, I attempted to extricate myself from Jake's arms, but he wasn't having it. Refusing to let go of my hand, he twirled me around and said, "Where do you think you're going? I'm not done with you yet."

"Jake . . ." I started.

"Bells, come on – lighten up and have a little fun. For me?" He lips pulled into a pout and he batted his eyelashes. "Please?"

I caved. It was the least I could do after what I'd done.

.

~∞Ѿ∞~

.

Jake managed to keep me out on the dance floor for half a dozen songs or more, keeping me distracted and amused with his silly antics as he hammed it up. Eventually, after being forced to do the Sprinkler and Snorkle to the B-52's, the Runningman to _Too Legit to Quit_, and _Jump, Jump-_ing with Kris Kross, along with various other dances to the best of the eighties and nineties, I was able to do like Miss Mary sang it and _leave my situations at the door_. And once I _let loose and set my body free_, I not only felt alright, but I actually had fun.

I was laughing as I stumbled over both my own and Jake's feet while we twirled around in a piss poor attempt at doing the swing when I saw _him_ in all his furious, clenched fists, messy-haired glory. It was like having a bucket of ice water thrown in my face. My indiscretions were standing in front of me, not thirty feet away, glaring at me while I enjoyed myself with my blissfully . . . _thankfully_ . . . unaware boyfriend.

Withering under the weight of Edward's stare but unable to look away, I stopped mid-step, causing Jake to crash into me and nearly knock me to the floor; he caught me before I made contact.

"Awww, shit, babe! We were doing so well!" Jake lamented as he set me back on my feet. Maintaining his hold on my upper arms, he leaned back to assess my well-being, his eyes methodically working their way up starting at my feet. I only just managed to look away from Edward by the time he made it to my face. "You okay?"

"Yeah – yeah, I'm fine. Sorry for just stopping. Can we take a break for a few; I'm parched," I lied, fanning my face for effect.

"Sure, sure. We have been seriously neglecting taking advantage of the open bar, and it's about time we rectify that."

He kept me close as he led me off the dance floor and toward the nearest bar, Edward's gaze burning into my back the entire way. Once at the bar, Jake wasted no time bellying up to it.

"Pick your poison, princess," he told me.

"Nice alliteration, there. Um . . . I'll have—"

"Bella!" boomed a deep voice, close and to my left. I was so startled it wasn't until the person continued talking that I realized it was Charlie. "There you are, kid. I have been looking for you all over the place."

"Oh, sorry . . . Jake and I were dancing."

He looked at me in disbelief, and then stepped back, looking both of us over.

"And no one's – no one's hurt?"

Turning to face him fully, I smacked him in the shoulder. "Oh, ha-ha. _Very_ funny. Now, what did you want? I assume you came over for more than just having a laugh at my expense."

"Hey, don't make me haul you in for assaulting an officer of the law," he teased back before growing serious. "Actually, I was coming over to let you know we're gonna take off. Billy isn't feeling all that well –" Jake tensed behind me, drawing Charlie's attention and he raised his hand to keep Jake quiet.

"Before you go off half-cocked," Charlie said, addressing Jake, "Doc Cullen says it's nothing serious, but it's a long drive back, so we thought we'd get on the road. You know how it is."

"So soon? I feel like I've hardly seen you today, but . . . I understand. You know you could just stay here for the night, right? The Cullens' room offer still stands."

"I know kid, but I've got an important meeting down at the river first thing tomorrow and, besides that, a man likes to sleep in his own bed if he can help it. Don't worry about not getting to see much of me today. You had shit to do." He opened his mouth, as if he had more to say, but nothing came out. His mouth closed and he looked to the floor, shifting his feet as he scratched the back of his neck, looking distinctly uncomfortable.

"You, uh . . . you looked real pretty today, kid. Prettier than the bride even . . . just don't tell Rose I said that. She's kind of scary. Who knows, maybe one day soon that'll be you up there in the white dress?" He finally lifted his head, looking over my shoulder to Jake with a beaming smile on his face before looking down at me with a kind of stoic proudness. It was obvious what he was thinking.

I blanched, and then averted my eyes and bit my tongue to keep from saying something I would regret. It was like I was chattel, being given away without my permission, and it made me feel powerless, kind of icky, and just . . . wrong. Silence hung in the air for what felt like a bit too long before someone finally spoke.

"You know, I don't look too shabby in a tux, if I do say so myself," Jake joked as he struck a pose, seemingly oblivious to the weirdness that I could feel hanging oppressively over our heads.

Cracking a grin, Jake stopped preening and shared a chuckle with Charlie. It was as if they were already family, and I felt like an outsider as I nervously joined in—my laugh just a bit too loud and staccato—before awkwardly and belatedly adding, "Not too soon."

Either they didn't hear me or they chose to ignore me, but neither of them said anything. I felt the steel band of their expectations tighten another notch or two, constricting my chest and further robbing me of air. Panic flared in my eyes as my breathing grew shallow. Once again, neither seemed to notice.

"Well, kiddo," Charlie started when they were finished with their little hee-haw moment, "I'm gonna get going."

He leaned in to give me an awkward, one-armed hug that I returned stiffly. "I love you and be safe tonight. You got your pepper spray, right?"

I snorted and then huffed out a little laugh, saying, "I hardly doubt I'm going to need it here. Who am I going to use it on, Nana Cullen?"

Charlie crossed his arms over his chest and scowled at me while Jake muttered something that sounded like, "I know a Cullen you could use it on."

When Charlie's eyes snapped to Jake's for a moment, one corner of his mouth lifting despite himself, I was positive that was exactly what he'd said. My snappy comeback died on tongue when my eyes met the stern, disapproving face of Forks' Chief of Police. Swallowing it down, I looked at the floor and muttered, "Yeah, Dad, it's in my purse. I love you, too. Drive safe."

His expression serious, he lifted his hand to my shoulder and squeezed it as he said, "Always do, kiddo." With that, he walked away.

Behind me, Jake rocked indecisively from foot to foot. Charlie had only made it about five strides before Jake called out to him, decision made. "Hey, Charlie! Hold up a sec, would ya?"

I was spun to face Jake before I could see if he stopped. "Hey, I know I planned on staying with you tonight, but I was thinking I should probably head back with Charlie and my dad. I don't feel right about sending my father home with yours when he's not feeling well; he's not the Chief's responsibility. I know Dr. Cullen said it was nothing to worry about, but I should be there, just in case, you know?" He scratched at his neck and shifted around nervously (the gesture eerily similar to what Charlie had done only minutes earlier).

I don't know how much time passed before Jake's voice—hesitant and anxious with worry over my reaction—made me realize that I still hadn't spoken. "Is that, um . . . is that okay? You're not gonna be mad at me or anything, right?"

It was actually . . . kind of perfect, but I didn't say that. "Yeah – no . . . that's, um . . . fine. It's your dad, of course you should go with him. I completely understand," I rambled in reply, trying not to sound overeager or relieved.

"You're sure?" he asked again, skeptic and wary. I nodded and he let out the breath he'd been holding before leaning in and planting a swift kiss to my head. "Thanks for understanding. I hate just leaving you here."

Lost in my thoughts and not really listening, it took me a moment to realize that he had stopped talking and another to grasp what he'd said. "Not a problem," I belatedly murmured as I looked up at his face only to find him staring over my shoulder with a scowl.

I looked over my shoulder, following his gaze like you would a rainbow, and wasn't at all surprised to find Edward, glaring right back at Jacob, instead of a pot of gold when I reached the end. My eyes narrowed as I looked from one to the other twice, and then I shook my head and focused on the one that was my immediate concern just as his attention returned to me.

"You know, you could always come with me," he offered. "That way I wouldn't have to worry about leaving you here all alone."

I rolled my eyes with an annoyed sigh and crossed my arms. "No, Jake, I can't. Just go – take care of your dad. I'm a big girl and I'll be just fine without you babysitting me."

"Right, right, I know. It was just a thought." He wisely didn't argue. "Well, Charlie's waiting. I should go."

He started forward, briefly glancing over my shoulder again, and then hesitated, not even having taken a full step. A spark flashed in his eyes and the corners of his lips lifted in the barest hint of smirk just before he crushed me to him and covered his mouth with mine to give me a showy, over the top kiss. He was sporting a full fledged smirk by the time he released me. He glanced behind me once more, and suddenly looked like the Cheshire Cat, all smugly devious. I stiffened in indignation, grateful when he walked away, tossing a dismissive, "Love ya, babe," over his shoulder.

"Yeah," I replied through gritted teeth, not even bothering to look at him, but happy to see him go.

Keeping myself tightly in check, I took several deep, cleansing breaths, before turning around to see turned Jake just as he made it to my father's side. They briefly conversed, Charlie patted him on the shoulder, and then they both waved goodbye to me—my father looking apologetic for stealing my date away and Jake guilty for choosing his father over me. My annoyance over his posturing in front of Edward vanished, leaving behind a miasma of self-loathing and remorse.

. . . _condemnation_ . . . _tried_ . . . _here on the stand with the book in my hand and truth_ . . . (not) . . ._ on my side_ . . .

Jake had nothing to feel guilty for. I didn't want his guilt; I had enough of my own. It made me hate myself just a little bit more, impossible as I thought it to be. And Charlie . . . Well, he had just done me a favor, really. _Which made me feel guiltier. _ Compelled to give them what comfort I could, I offered them the biggest smile I could manage and waved back.

. . . _she's not the kind of girl who likes to tell the world about the way she feels about herself _. . .

"Love you, babe," Jake called over his shoulder again—this time, more sincerely—as they started to walk away.

"I love you, too," I replied honestly. Feeling tears pool in my eyes, I turned to face the bar and blinked rapidly, trying to both contain and quell my tears; I didn't deserve to cry.

. . . _she takes a little time in making up her mind; she doesn't want to fight against the tide _. . .

I had to fix things, but I didn't know how. When had everything gotten so complicated? Someone was going to get hurt no matter what I did; better it was me and _him _than him and _her._

. . . _now everything's about to fall apart; I won't be the one who's going to let you down _. . .

I was so tired suddenly, exhausted. I let out a deep, shuddering sigh and leaned on my elbows, dropping my head down onto my crossed forearms to keep my face off the sticky bar top.

. . . _the trick is to keep breathing_ . . .

I needed a fucking drink—stat—but first I just needed a moment to clear my head.

"You sleeping or just having a bad night?"

My head popped up. "Yes to the latter, but I was hoping for the former. It would have been really nice to sleep through the rest of my bad night. Guess that won't be happening now. Thanks for that, by the way," I replied flippantly.

"My apologies, mademoiselle," he said with a courtly bow. "Why don't you let me make it up to you – buy you a drink. What'll it be, pretty lady, on the house?"

I snorted; couldn't help myself. "First of all, it's an open bar, but even if it wasn't, you're the bartender. And second, I'll take a double Grey Goose on the rocks."

"Well, you can't blame a guy for trying to charm a girl. Coming right up, beautiful." He smirked and then set about preparing my drink. I watched him as he worked, noticing the way his muscles moved under his well-fitted white button up. He was attractive—extremely so, I could admit—but I had no interest in him as anything other than the purveyor of the spirits essential for my inebriation. A sudden charge in the air made me forget about the enticing, but not enough, bartender. I held my breath, waiting, waiting, waiting, refusing to look.

A lifetime or a minute later, the Flirty Drink-mixer-man handed me my drink with a wink, saying, "Here ya' go, honey." He looked over my shoulder. "Looks like you have some company." _Way to point out what I was trying to ignore._ "You know where I am if you want me to buy you another one later."

"I'll be sure to remember that." I laughed with a humor I didn't feel, took a deep breath, a generous swig and then turned to face _him_, talking before he was even in sight.

"What do you want, Edward? I think we said everything we needed to say to each other earlier."

"Where'd your date disappear to?" he questioned, ignoring me.

"None of your business. Why are you bothering me?" I demanded testily and then turned back to the bar and my drink.

"Alice sent me to get you." I turned back around to face him, skepticism written all over my face. _Alice wouldn't dare . . ._ Edward shrugged. _Or maybe she would. _ I was starting to feel dizzy from all of the back and forth – both the physical and the mental turning around I was doing. "Anyway, Em and Rose need to leave to catch their flight in—" he looked at his watch, "—just over an hour, so they want to get the garter thing and bouquet toss out of the way. I don't really know why they need us, but whatever . . . I don't ask questions, I just do as I'm told."

"Yeah, that's probably smart," I agreed amicably, forgetting for a moment that we weren't on speaking terms. _Fucking terms, but speaking . . . no. _Whatever.

When he was just being himself, and not trying get back in my good graces . . . _or pants, whichever . . ._ it was easy to slip back into old habits, and we'd always bantered well. We just got each other. Well, we used to. _I think. _We were friends once upon a time, back before we added sex to the equation and screwed everything up. We were even able to be friends some of the time after we started fucking around. _Maybe we could be friends again? _ I found myself pondering as I sucked down the rest of my Goose.

"Can I get you another one, Pretty Lady?" asked Flirty McFlirterson, the cute bartender, sidling up to the bar across from me with an ease professing a familiarity that he clearly did not possess since we had only just met . . . and not even officially.

"Um . . ." While I hesitated, his attention was drawn to the asshat behind me and he stood up a bit straighter, one eyebrow slightly raised.

Knowing what I was going to see, but doing it anyway, I looked behind me and found—surprise, surprise, surprise—a glowering Edward Cullen. The expression on his face reminded me of the erroneousness of my errant thought about friendship. _Never gonna happen._ I looked away. "No, I'm fine thanks. Maid of Honor duties call. Nice to meet you and thanks for keeping me company."

"Any time. I'm here all night if you get bored," he offered with an easy smile that I might have found enticing if I'd never known one of Edward's smiles. _And if I didn't have Jake, _I reminded myself.

Edward growled behind me and I decided that it would be a good time to go before he did something stupid. _Fucking caveman._

"Thanks," I mumbled with a small smile. Hopping off my stool, I walked away, grabbing Edward by the sleeve as I passed and yanking him to follow.

"What the fuck was that, Edward?" I hissed, stepping close to him for privacy. "That was completely inappropriate. You have no right . . ."

"Right. Thanks for the reminder," he muttered coldly, shaking me off. I felt something slam down between us, something that, even when I hated him the most, when he hurt me the most, I had never felt before. I have to admit, I was a little offended, possibly a bit hurt, but I stopped it and me in my tracks, chastising myself since _I_ had no right to feel that way. Edward didn't wait, but he hadn't made it far, so I followed along behind him, maintaining the distance that had come between us—both the physical and emotional.

.

~∞Ѿ∞~

.

The second Alice had given us our instructions, letting us know what was expected of us, I slipped off to the nearest bar—not the same one as earlier—and grabbed another double Grey Goose on the rocks. Combined with all the champagne I'd imbibed throughout the day, it was probably going to put me one foot over the line or in the bathroom puking (_If beer before liquor makes you much sicker, what does champagne do?)_, but . . . it was a celebration and I was celebrating. Even if it felt more like mourning._ How can you mourn something you keep saying you don't want?_ The vodka did an admirable job of drown my thoughts out.

No one was surprised when Emmett disappeared, diving head and shoulders beneath the skirt of Rose's dress when he went to retrieve the garter. What was surprising was the way Rosalie—_Rosalie!_—blushed a shade of scarlet heretofore unreached by anyone not bearing the surname Swan. I don't think anyone was confused as to the cause of her squirming or the sharp squeal she gave, but like me, I don't think anyone wanted to think about it.

Seconds later, Rose began smacking the portions of Emmett that were hidden below her skirt, furiously whispering, "Emmett! My Nana's here, you ass! Would you quit that and get out here, please?"

She tried to sound and look angry, but her giggles, barely contained smile, and glittering eyes gave her away.

Emmett emerged with the frilly garter in his teeth and a mile wide smile on his dimpled face (which was slightly red from exertion). He rose to his feet, giving his bride a wink as he turned to face the assembled bachelors, and raised both arms above his head victoriously to an accompaniment of hoots, hollers, whistles and catcalls while Rose hid her face in her hands. They were so loud that I barely heard her smug, slightly proud, _that's my monkeyman_.

_Monkeyman? What the fuck? _I didn't want to know. I turned to look at Alice who stood at my right, and judging from the look she gave me, she had also heard and also didn't want to know. I turned back just as Emmett prepared to toss the garter. Even though I didn't think she meant it literally, as he hooked it over the thumb of one hand and the first finger of the other, stretching the garter tightly between the two, I found myself squinting his direction, trying to imagine him with more hair, a wider nose, and more prominent brow. _Hmm! Monkeyman – I can see it. _ _I still don't want to know, however. _ I shook my head and zoned back in just as Emmett slingshot the garter into the crowd of men and . . . straight . . . into . . . Edward's hands.

The bouquet toss was no less raucous than the garter toss, but certainly less borderline pornographic. All of the unmarried women—Alice and I included—were herded to the dance floor, Rose turned her back to us, looked behind her once before tossing the damn thing, and it was just like a movie. _And not a romantic comedy, either. _Shrill squealing erupted and girls all around me began shoving as they jockeyed for position. Almost in slow motion, I watched the bouquet fall in a gentle arc, slipping through the matrix of arms and hands all reaching to grab it as it headed directly towards my face. Staring in disbelief, my hands didn't come up until the last possible second, just in time to catch it as it bounced off my face and headed to ground.

What were the chances that both Edward and I would be the ones to win our respective tosses? I was no statistician, or even a bookie, but I was pretty sure the odds weren't in our favor. If I hadn't known our friends were so against Edward and me being together, I would have thought that they had arranged for it to happen, but I did know, so I wasn't sure what to think.

I barely heard the applause from everyone watching or the grumbles of the gathered women who had lost, I was too dazed as I stood there staring down at the floral arrangement that I still held clutched against my chest. And I was only vaguely aware of everyone dispersing as Alice bounced beside me, clapping her hands like a seal in her excitement. An automaton, I was led to sit in Rose's former chair, still in the center of the room, with a nervous looking Edward standing beside it. His eyes focused on the garter in his hands, never once looking up. I wasn't sure what was happening, but my throat felt too tight to ask. I wasn't sure I really wanted to know, anyway.

Still dazed, I mostly tuned out the heated whispered conversation between Alice, Emmett, Rose and Edward.

"_Alice, I really don't think this is a good idea." _

"_Edward, it's a tradition! Jesus, just get down there and get it over with. Charlotte will get over it; it's not as if you planned it or anything."_

"_That's not . . . Al, this has . . ."_

I started to feel slightly dizzy under the leering gazes of the people surrounding us—some still at their tables, while others stood in order to get a better view. It was like being in a fish bowl, and in my vision, their faces started to distort and blur . . . all except one.

"_Jesus-fuck! What the hell is going on here?" Rose demanded. _

Charlotte stood out in sharp detail. She stood stiffly several feet away—separate from the crowd, but not with us, either—arms wrapped around her and hands clenched tightly. Her eyes flicked rapidly between where I was sitting and Edward, her expression was a mix of irrational anger, distrust and concern, yet she seemed to hesitant to interfere or become involved in any way. When she saw my gaze on her, her eyes narrowed.

"_Ed-ward," Alice spit his name out in two hard syllables, her gaze moving from Edward to Rose, "doesn't think this is a good idea. He thinks it might upset Charlotte. I told him it would be fine, but . . ." _

"_That's not it . . ." Edward started._

_Rose spoke over him. "I don't give a fuck about Charlotte. It's tradition and we're doing it. So, to quote Nike, just fucking do it." _

"_Babe, I'm pretty sure that Nike's slogan didn't contain the word 'fucking'." Rose glared at him and he raised up his hands, palms forward, beside his chest. Putting them down, he looked at his brother. "Come on, bro . . . don't be a dick at my wedding. Char seems pretty cool; I'm sure she'll get over it," Emmett contributed. _

Charlotte looked almost feral—and possibly slightly desperate, too—as she held my gaze for just a moment before abruptly and angrily pulling away to scowl at the wall.

"_Fine, I'll do it, but don't say I didn't warn you when this all blows up in our faces."_

Charlotte's eyes snapped back to me, incredulity written on her face and in her big blue eyes. It was then that I noticed Edward was reluctantly kneeling in front of me, his eyes apologetic when they met mine, and it became all too clear what was going on.

I stiffened, my first instinct telling me to bolt, but I managed to stay in my seat. Had I been paying more attention during all the months of wedding planning, or even when Alice had spoken to Edward and I earlier, I wouldn't have been so surprised by what was happening, and I could have tried harder to avoid catching the bouquet, but I hadn't been paying attention.

I jerked reflexively when I felt Edward's fingertips on my ankle, his touch feather-light with uncertainty. My reaction caused him to jump, and his eyes flew to mine as his fingers left my skin for a moment. Apologizing, he returned his hand, this time his touch firmer, determined like the expression on his face. I held my breath, biting back a moan, as his fingers slid across the thin skin of my bare ankle, wrapping one-by-one around the bones, and then he tugged.

Puzzled, I asked, "Wha . . . what are you doing?"

"If this is gonna work, you're going to need to uncross your ankles. Please." A hint of amusement passed over his face like a shadow before he tempered it.

"Oh! Right." I blushed, almost kicking him in my haste to uncross them. Biting my lip, I mumbled my own apology. Edward's eyes darkened as they dialed in on my lip, before slowly moving back and locking with mine. Despite wanting to, I found myself unable to break their hold.

Our eyes never faltered as he slipped the garter over my heel-clad foot and slid it up my leg, not stopping until it was inches above my knee. Releasing the garter, his fingers splayed out, one hand hovering above the garter and holding the fabric of my dress away from my skin while the fingers of the other stretched up, briefly sweeping his fingertips—once, twice—across the flesh of my inner thigh before retreating. My skin was on fire and my breathing had grown shallow and rushed. Edward didn't appear to be at all affected. His hands slid out from under my dress, and he stood up, facing our audience and bowing to a mix of laughter and applause.

Dr. Girlfriend materialized beside him, shooting me a proprietary glance before wrapping an arm around his waist and pressing herself against him while I sat mute and passive in the chair, trying to calm myself, my heart still racing and my blood still boiling. I couldn't seem to stop staring as Edward draped his arm over her shoulder and then . . . _my heart pounded harder _. . . turned into her, eyes closed, and tilted his head to drop a kiss to the top of her head . . . _lava flowed through my veins._

His eyes snapped open, locking with mine. His face was impassive, stoic even, but something flickered in the emerald depths of his eyes. He turned his head before I could see what, if anything, materialized. Calming myself proved futile. My heart still pounded loudly against my chest and my blood continued to boil, only for a different reason now.

_What the fuck is he doing? He's going to touch her, kiss her right in front of me? After the way he just touched me and . . . earlier? _A slew of emotions ran through me and I tried to keep them from playing across my face, praying for the numbness to come back while holding onto the anger because it was easier to do with than the hurt. I had to somehow survive the night. _I can do that._

The impending departure of Rosalie and Emmett diverted the attention from the three-ring circus that had just taken place, Edward and I in center ring. No longer under the microscope, my shoulders sagged as I let out the breath I'd been holding and blinked back tears for the umpteenth time that day, unsure why I was crying over that. _Oh, maybe because Edward could touch you like he did while looking at you like he was, and then walk away—cool as a_ fucking _cucumber—and immediately get all lovey-dovey with Dr. Perfect-For-Him Girlfriend right in front of you. _

It perturbed me that I was so upset about it considering I had pushed him away earlier in the evening. _After fucking him, _my inner bitch reminded me, to which I agreed. That thought just made me more upset, and a lone tear trickled down my face at the exact moment that Edward chose to look over his shoulder. He looked remorseful and panicked when he saw me, and began to disentangle himself from Dr. Girlfriend, but a sharp shake of my head stopped him. He still looked as if he wanted to come to me, but he was distracted by Charlotte turning to him. I averted my eyes and stood. Rose was about to depart, and would need both Alice and me to help her change out of her wedding dress.

.

~∞Ѿ∞~

.

Alice and I helped Rose and then, after heartfelt hugs for both her and Em, and maybe a couple of happy tears, joined everyone in seeing the newlyweds off. Although the bride and groom were gone, they had encouraged everyone to stay and enjoy themselves, so the party was still going strong. Partying was the last thing I was in the mood for. What I really wanted to do was go home, take a nice, hot shower and try to scrub the filth from my soul, but Alice, Jasper, and Ma and Pa Cullen wouldn't hear of me leaving so early.

I could have easily refused Alice and Jasper—I'd been saying no to Alice, and Jasper by extension, for years—but I never had been able to turn Esme and Carlisle down. So, I stayed, but hated every minute of it. It was disgusting watching Dr. Girlfriend hang all over Edward. She was fucking clingy, something the Edward _I_ knew despised, yet there he was fawning all over her. I wasn't totally buying it though; no one changed that dramatically in just a year and a half. For the most part, his behavior was believable, but there was something in his eyes that told me it was all an act . . . _that, and he'd fucked me only a couple hours earlier. Happy, in love men don't do that, doting boyfriends_ don't _do that_.

Deciding that if I had to stay and be miserable I might as well be drunk . . . _that's right, treat depression with a depressant; that'll work out well _. . . I moseyed over to one of the bars and ordered two more double Grey Goose . . . _Gooses? _. . . _Geese? _. . . _doesn't matter._ The first one I drank at the bar for fortification, and the second I took with me for maintenance as I rejoined my adopted family . . . and Charlotte. _Yay, me!_

Thirty minutes later found me annoyed, mostly drunk and back at the bar nursing another double Grey. I needed a moment away from all the happy couples_. _Well, one happy couple, really. _ Do you really need maul him every time I'm nearby . . . which is all the time since the people you insist on hanging out with are _my _friends (go get your own). _Why the hell was I letting it bother me so much? Who gave a fuck if she was with Edward? It was just seriously distasteful of her to shove her tongue down his throat in front of so many people. I mean, have a little class. _And stop looking so fucking smug, bitch. _She needed to check herself . . ._ before I was forced to wreck her . . . self. And I needed to seriously consider slowing down on the drinking._

I had tried to be understanding, knowing that Char knew virtually no one in attendance, but her clingy, PDA-filled behavior grated on my last nerve.

"Are you sure you need another one, Bells?" _ Fucking Edward! _

I turned and glared at him. _You really want to go there, pal?_

"Don't you think you've had enough for one night?"

_Apparently, he did._

"No, I most certainly have not, thank you very much . . . not that it's any concern of yours. Don't you have a girlfriend to go keep upright? I mean, with the way she's clinging to you, I'm not so sure she is capable of standing on her own."

At first, he smiled cruelly, a scathing retort on his tongue, but then it was almost like he deflated as his shoulders slumped, his head fell forward, and he heaved a protracted, aggravated sigh. Reining in his frustration, he pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. "Bella . . . I'm not going to fight with you," he declared in a tightly controlled voice, but it sounded as if he was saying it to himself, a reminder.

Whomever he was speaking to, it was the wrong thing to say because apparently I _was_ going to fight with him. _To hell with what he wants._

"Good. Why don't you run along back to your warden . . . I mean to your _girlfriend,_" I sneered. "You've been gone for all of eleven seconds now, I'm sure she's nearly frantic wondering where you've gotten off to. I'm surprised she hasn't put you a leash yet."

"Bella . . ." he growled in warning, but I just kept going.

"What? Oh – you do have a leash? How cute. It was awfully nice of her to let you out tonight without it. You've got a great girl there, Edward. I bet you'll be very happy as Mr. Charlotte Cullen. Naturally, I expect an invitation for her big day."

"Ha! Really, Bella? You're gonna go there? You're honestly going to act like you have any fucking right to get pissed at me for having a girlfriend? Don't even fucking start that shit with me. What was I supposed to do, huh? Spend the rest of my life miserable and alone as penance for being young, stupid and scared, and fucking everything up with you while you moved on?"

"No, but you could have waited a little while, maybe actually acted like you were a little hurt instead of hooking up with the first piece of ass that comes along!" Even as the words were coming out of my mouth, I knew what I was saying was irrational, that my accusations weren't entirely truth-based, but I just couldn't seem to stop the crazy that was spewing.

. . . _pouring like an avalanche coming down the mountain_ . . .

"Five years, Edward—_five fucking years—_and the most I ever got from you was a good shagging whenever the mood struck and you couldn't find anyone else to scratch your itch. And the closest you ever got to declaring how you felt about me was when you blurted out, "I love fucking you!' in a dirty bar bathroom." I stopped when my voice broke, and swallowed. That wasn't entirely true. He had told me he loved me in the meadow the day I left Forks, but it doesn't count since it was said under duress as he was about to lose his sure-thing booty call.

. . . _I don't mind the sun sometimes, the images it shows_ . . .

"'I love _fucking _you'," I quoted for a second time. "Looks like you found someone new that you love to fuck even more."

. . . _I can taste you on my lips and smell you in my clothes_ . . .

"Come off your high horse, Isabella. You act like I ran out and hooked up with Charlotte the moment you left when that's far from the truth . . . _unlike some people _. . ." The last part was muttered to himself; I don't think I was supposed to hear it. But I did.

. . ._ cinnamon and sugar-y and softly spoken lies_ . . .

"What was that, Edward?" I forced out from between my clenched teeth, my voice a dark threat.

"Nothing," he bit out.

"No, what were you going to say, Edward?" If he thought I was going to let it go, he had another thing coming. I had a pretty good idea of what he was going to say, but I needed to hear him actually say the words.

"Just forge –"

"Just fucking say it!" I snapped. _Come on, you judgmental ass, grow a pair and say it. _

Somehow we drifted nearer to one another, and now were standing toe-to-toe, him attempting to level me with his glare, or at least make me back down, and me, returning his glare and not giving an inch.

"Fine! You want me to say it, so I will . . . I was going to say, at least I didn't act like a cheap whore, snorting, smoking and popping whatever I could get my hands on before fucking anyone I could get to hold still long enough to mount!"

I barely managed to keep from wincing when he said it. Even knowing what was coming, it hurt; I was surprised by just _how much_ it hurt. Ice water flooded my veins as his truth filled words hovered heavy and loud in the silence between us. The volume grew and grew, taking over until it was all I could hear.

. . ._ you never know just how you look through other people's eyes_ . . .

_I was done with this shit_. My demeanor iced over, and Edward seemed to realize he fucked up, but I didn't give him the opportunity to backpedal.

"No, Edward, " I started in a low tone, "you did it the entire time we were fucking."

Without another word, I brushed past him and walked away, leaving him standing behind me, gaping at my departing form.

.

~∞Ѿ∞~

.

**Songs Used*  
****(In Order of Appearance):**

_Third Planet, _Modest Mouse  
_Condemnation, _Depeche Mode  
_The Trick is to Keep Breathing, _Garbage  
_Pepper, _Butthole Surfers

_*All songs are the property of their respective owners. No copyright infringement intended._

**Notes:**

"_. . . shaking like a dog shitting razorblades . . ." _- first line from the Alkaline Trio song _Radio_

The Sprinkler, the Snorkle and the Runningman are all dance moves. The B-52's are a band from the 80s, known for such songs as _Love Shack _and _Rock Lobster_, _Too Legit to Quit_ is a song by M.C. Hammer, and _Jump, Jump _are lyrics from the song _Jump _by Kris Kross

. . . _Miss Mary _. . . - Mary J. Blige

. . . _leave my situations at the door_ . . . _let loose and set my body free_ . . . – slightly altered lyrics from Mary J. Blige's song _Family Affair_

**Rec's:**  
_Snapdragon,_ prettykittyartist  
_Ashes, Records and Windowpanes_, Christie Hart  
_The War is Over,_ MariahjilE  
_Of Pleasure and Pain_, GemmaH  
_Going Under_, Sparklnfade  
_Downward Spiral_, content1


	16. Chapter 16 Metal Heart

**Disclaimer: **S. Meyer owns all recognizable characters, plots, etc. Only original content, characters, etc. belongs to author. No copyright infringement intended. Any errors contained herein, are expressly the fault of the authors idiocy, and not her betas.

**Word Count: **9,134

**A/N: **Thanks as always are due to Vanessarae and RedVelvetHeaven. I couldn't do it without either of you. Thanks also go out to all of you, because it would be pointless if no one read it.

Enjoy . . . or not.

* * *

**Chapter 16 – Metal Heart**

* * *

. . . _wish I was as big as you_

_You'd have to tell the truth_

_I'd be nothing you could hurt_

_Nothing you could use_ . . .

. . . _I want to be dependable, I want to be courageous and good_

_I want to be faithful so that I can be heroic and true_ . . .

. . . _I want to understand so I can forgive and be willing to love _. . .

. . . _but now that we know for sure they're telling lies when they say_

_No one gets hurt and therefore nobody dies_

_You know it's hard to believe anything that you hear_

_They say the world is round_

_The world is round?_

Garbage

.

~∞Ѿ∞~

.

**Previously – **

I was done with this shit. _My demeanor iced over, and Edward seemed to realize he fucked up, but I didn't give him the opportunity to backpedal. _

"_No, Edward, " I started in a low tone, "you did it the entire time we were fucking."_

_Without another word, I brushed past him and walked away, leaving him standing behind me, gaping at my departing form. _

.

~∞Ѿ∞~

.

I moved through the throngs of people as swiftly as I dared, not wanting to attract any attention as I made my escape, but once I stepped through the door and into the hallway, I threw caution to the wind. Slipping my heels off and clutching them in one hand, I ran towards the bank of elevators down the hall. I paid no heed to the few people in the corridor or the strange looks I garnered.

_Elevator or stairs? Elevator or stairs? Elevator or Stairs? _I debated as I approached. The ding that announced an arriving elevator just ahead of me made the decision for me. Well, that and me attempting to hurry down the stairs wouldn't end well. As if the car was awaiting my presence, the door started to slide closed the second my foot crossed the threshold.

"Hold the elevator!" I heard shouted from down the hall, and I was both surprised that he followed me, yet not at all. Although I was ostensibly fleeing from him, and wouldn't allow myself to admit it, I would have been disappointed if he hadn't. Regardless, I wasn't about to let him on the elevator; the last thing I wanted to do at that moment was talk to him, and even less did I want to do it without witnesses . . . the presence of the older guy in the elevator notwithstanding.

Speaking of, the man started forward, hand already outstretched, reaching for the door hold button. I abruptly stepped in front of him before he could reach it, pressing the door closed button and causing him to stumble and huff in annoyance.

I turned my head to address him, and said simply, "He didn't want this elevator."

He gave me an inscrutable look, and stepped back to his prior spot at the rear of the car, hands clasped in front of him and eyes aimed at the ceiling, refusing to meet the possibly unstable girl's gaze. My wildly fluctuating emotions shifted yet again, and I found myself smirking at the haughtiness and disdain oozing from him as I took in his appearance. Appraisal made, I chuckled quietly and thought to myself, _Your WASP roots are showing! _

Just to fuck with him—and maybe throw Edward off a bit—I pressed the button for the top floor, silently chuckling at the confusion and annoyance that briefly appeared on the face of my car mate, completely unwarranted. I could press as many floors as I wanted to, and it wouldn't affect him at all since the car had already been recalled to the lobby and would go there first, but with any luck, Edward wouldn't know that. He would see the 'L' and '18' above the elevator door in the hallway lit up and have to guess which floor it was going to first.

While I waited to arrive in the lobby, I slipped my shoes back on and smoothed my hair down, trying to make myself a bit more presentable. The chance of running into Edward somewhere between the elevator and the front doors was significant, and if I was going to throw down in the lobby of one of Seattle's premier hotels, I'd be damned if I didn't at least try to look my best. _Yeah, because looking pretty is going to make your behavior less white trash._ Whatever.

The door slid open. _Shit! Stupid, shiny marble floors. Forgot about those. The heels were a bad idea. _I stood there for a moment—blocking the doorway and causing the WASP to sigh (_chillax, Mr. Howell_)—before remembering that I was in a hurry . . . and why. I'd almost fallen the two other times I'd crossed the lobby during the day—once when we left for the ceremony, and once when we'd returned for the reception—but I was running out of time. _I would just have to more careful this time._ Poking my head out the door, I peered both directions—_all clear_—and then cautiously stepped out of the car . . . and promptly slipped.

I could only be grateful that good manners and chivalry were as deeply ingrained in today's WASPs as entitlement and superiority complexes . . . _they have appearances to maintain, after all _. . . as my flailing arms did nothing to assist me in my efforts to remain upright. There was no doubt in my mind that I was going down, but you would think I would try to do so with a little grace.

. . . _Gravity plays favorites, I know it 'cause I saw her. Honest to God, Officer, it's awful _. . .

Just as I gave up my awkward fight with gravity, my knight in stuffy cashmere and tweed swooped in and latched my arm with his. He only grunted slightly from the effort it took to keep me from tipping us both over.

My face was scarlet by the time we were both standing securely . . . _well, as securely as I'm ever standing_ . . . with both feet on the slick marble, my arm still looped with his. I let my hair swing forward to hide my embarrassment and kept my eyes trained on the floor.

"Um . . . so, yeah, I haven't been walking long," I muttered sarcastically, actually earning myself a snort, which he quickly covered with a cough. _Don't worry, I won't tell anyone at the country club about your slip-up. _

He cleared his throat. "You were leaving, I presume?" he asked with a sweeping gesture with his free arm towards the front entrance.

"Oh, yeah. Yes . . . well, trying to, at least. Thanks for the, uh . . . save there," I replied gracelessly.

"Well, the least I can do is see you out safely, since we're going the same way. After all, I've gone to a lot of trouble to keep you on your feet," he teased, shocking the hell out of me. _A sense of humor – who would have guessed it? _

"Really, you don't have to. I wouldn't want to cause you any trouble."

"No trouble at all. I have a niece about your age – terrible klutz. Besides, we're already halfway there."

My head snapped up, and I saw that we were indeed almost to the door. I blushed even more. I hadn't even realized we were walking. _I could be terribly unobservant, but even for me it was a bit ridiculous. _

"Oh, right . . ." I mumbled sheepishly.

We were almost to the door when I heard the distinct _ding!_ of an elevator arriving, and the hair on my arms and the back my neck stood on end. I just knew. Apparently, so did Mr. Howell.

"Just relax, we're almost there," he reminded me in a low voice as we stepped through the door. "And look, there's a cab. You were wanting a cab, correct?"

I just nodded, dumbfounded that this man wasn't at all whom I assumed he would be; I felt badly for judging him. _Who would have thought Mr. Howell could be so perceptive and considerate?_

"I don't know you or your situation," he looked over his shoulder in a way that added, _or what you're running away from_, "but if there's one thing I've learned in life, it's that you can't run from your problems. Sooner or later, they _will_ find you.

"That being said," he helped me into the back of the cab, "you've got a bit of time to think about things, but don't forget that time will run out," he looked over his shoulder again, "sooner rather than later, I think. Have a lovely evening."

He closed the door and smacked the top of the cab, letting the driver know he could take off, just as Edward burst through the door, yelling, "Bella, wait!"

He was too late. The driver's eyes met mine in the rearview mirror and his foot lifted from the brake, his bland expression never changing. As the car pulled away from the hotel, I turned in my seat, unable to stop myself from stealing a glimpse of him through the back window. I watched his desperation turn to despair, and quickly turned back around.

"Where to, Miss?"

.

~∞Ѿ∞~

.

I closed and locked my door behind me, slipped off my heels, walked across my living room and dropped my wristlet on my coffee table before walking down the hall to the bathroom and turning the shower on as hot as I could bear. As tired and drained as I was, I felt too unclean to sleep. Before I could escape into the hopefully black depths of unconsciousness, I needed to wash the day from my skin.

I stayed under the water until it started to cool, but I didn't feel any cleaner than I did when I got in. No matter how much soap I used, it would never be enough to wash away the filth covering my soul.

I wrapped myself in a towel and stepped into my bedroom in search of my favorite comfort clothes. The irony of wearing clothing that once belonged to Edward to ease the ache he caused didn't escape me, but I was too exhausted to care. I found the faded and threadbare Zeppelin shirt and too large sweats, slipped them on and headed to the living room to get my phone out of my purse. I needed to let Alice know where I was and that I was fine. I didn't want her to worry . . . or show up at my apartment to check on me. _ Which she would totally do, trust._

As I reached out to grab my clutch from off the coffee table where I'd left it, there was a knock on my door. I grimaced. _Think of the devil and she shall appear. _I walked to the door, already talking, and opened it without bothering to check the peephole.

"I was just about to send you a text, Al! You didn't have to come all the way across town just to check on me, you know? I appreciate it, but I'm a big . . . girl . . . Edward?"

Not. Who. I. Expected.

At all.

"Bella," he replied all on edge and looking at anything but me. "Can I come in? Please?"

. . . _here we go again, we're sick like animals_ . . .

Somewhat numb from the shock of his presence—and that Dr. Girlfriend was nowhere to be seen . . . _not that she would have been cool with him coming (so where was she?)_—I opened the door the rest of the way and stepped aside, indicating for him to enter. I poked my head out of the door, quickly and covertly looking up and down the hall—for what reason, I don't know—before closing the door behind him. I didn't—couldn't—turn around; I wasn't ready to face him yet. Instead, I leaned my head against the metal and prepared for what was to come . . . _whatever that could be_.

. . . _we play pretend_ . . .

I couldn't say why I had let him in—maybe because I had taken Mr. Howell's words to heart and didn't want to have the discussion in my hallway at one-thirty in the morning or maybe because I was more masochistic than I ever knew. _Who knows?_ What I did know was that I should never have done it. As soon as I realized who was at the door, I should have slammed the door in his face and gone to bed.

. . . _you're just a cannibal,_ _and I'm afraid_ _I won't get out alive . . ._

That would have been the sensible thing to do. Him being in my apartment was bad, and it would only end in tears . . . _or my bed _. . . but it was too late for _woulda, shoulda, coulda_. Taking a deep breath, steeling myself, I turned around to face him, not feeling any more prepared to deal with him than I had when I left the reception.

. . . _I won't sleep tonight _. . .

"Bella, we have to talk. We can't keep up this constantly-at-each-other's-throats bullshit. We just continue lashing out at each other and I hate hurting you. I just – I can't take it anymore." His plaintive voice and distress seemed genuine, but I refused to let it get to me. I knew better than to let my guard down around him.

. . . _oh, oh, I want some more _. . .

"Where's your girlfriend, Edward? Does she know you're here?" I queried. It was completely off topic and apropos of nothing, but hey . . . they do say the best offense is a good defense.

. . . _what are you waiting for?_

"Charlotte?" he asked with his face scrunched up in confusion_. What, did he have a whole plethora of girlfriends from which to choose? It wouldn't have been surprising. In the past, he'd always had a harem from which to choose . . . but they were exactly that, not girlfriends._ "What does Charlotte have to do with this? No, she doesn't know I'm here, but she's not my keeper."

. . . _take a bite of my heart tonight_ . . .

I snorted in disgust and derision as I looked away, while Edward glared balefully at me.

"What's _that_ supposed to mean, Isabella?"

"_What does Charlotte have to do with this?_ Charlotte has everything to fucking do with this!"

"No, she doesn't. This isn't about her. This is about you and me, and no one else matters."

"Wow, that's one hell of a relationship you've got there. Way to show me what I'm missing out on. Did you talk about me this same way when you were with Tanya? Hmm? Did you laugh at me for being so stupid behind my back? I almost feel sorry for Charlotte. You and I might have been fucking, but I was never deluded into believing we were in a relationship. Poor girl is so starry eyed over you that she isn't going to know what hit her when your true colors are revealed.

"This little relationship of yours might have fooled some people into thinking you're a changed man, but . . . you know what they say. _The more things change, the more Edward Cullen still fucks anything with a pussy,_" I taunted in a sing-song voice. The anger that flashed across his face was supremely satisfying, but the hurt that followed swiftly behind somewhat ruined it for me. _Somewhat._

"You honestly think . . . I can't believe . . . You really think that about me – that I would do that?" he finally spit out, stumbling over his words in the same manner his emotions stumbled over his face as I watched. Maybe I'd been too caught up in watching him regain his balance, because I felt as if I were missing something; his question made no sense to me.

"Do what, exactly?"

He opened his mouth to speak, but stopped, biting back his response with a snap of his teeth and turning away from me. With his back to me, he took a deep breath, held it and then let it out slowly. He repeated this two more times before finally begging in a voice hoarse with the strain of controlling himself, "Bella, please . . . just stop this. I know I deserve your animosity and more, but—God!—can't we find some middle ground or something and stop throwing all of these insults back and forth?

"I understand—well, I'm trying to accept that I lost you for good, but you have to understand how hard it for me to see you move on . . . to see you with him . . ."

_Hypocrite! _

Feeling uncomfortable and cornered, I lashed out. I let him take the fall for it all without batting on eye, but inwardly I cringed at what a lying coward I was. "You've moved on too, Edward, so don't put this all on me. Besides, you caused all of this in the first place."

His laugh was unexpected, no matter how sharp and humorless it was, as he spun to face me. "Are you fucking blind, Bella? I've hardly moved on, despite how it looks. I'm just as hung up on you as I ever was—more so, actually. I can't get you out of my head or my heart or my soul. You're all I think about all day long, the last thing on my mind before I go to bed and the first when I wake up.

"You're everything to me, Bells, and I'd give anything to fix this shit between us . . . even if that means I couldn't be anything more than your friend. I would hate every fucking second of it—being your friend—because you are so much more than that, but I'd do it if it was all I could have with you. Don't you see . . . I'd do anything for you. You own me now more than you ever have.

"I was always yours, Bella, no matter how much I tried to deny it. I thought I was protecting you by pushing you away, but really I was just a coward who was protecting me."

Something inside of me shifted at this revelation and the spark in his eyes let me know he felt it too, but I still couldn't . . . _wouldn't_ . . . give in. Not quite meeting my eyes since he made his confession, fear plain as day on his face, he moved closer to me.

. . . _feel your breath on my face, your body close to me, can't look in your eyes _. . .

"That's a nice sentiment and all, but it's a bit too late. I'm with Jake now . . . you know that, and despite what happened between us—what we've _done_—" I said, making clear of what I'm speaking and eliminating any arguments he could form from it, " I'll never be yours."

Hating how weak I sounded, I struck below the belt, needing to hurt him as much as I was hurting myself by denying him. I stared at a spot just to the left of him, unable to look at him while I said it. "You had your chance, and you gave it up for the thrill of fucking a strawberry-blonde whore with a superiority complex and a bad boob job."

I felt him shrink away from me, and from the corner of my eye I saw him wilt, accepting his defeat. I honestly didn't know what to make of it. It was so unexpected. Where was the cocksure, never take no for an answer, smirking charmer that I remembered? Him I could deal with, but this . . . _No! _I wasn't going to give in. _So he looks a little_ . . . try absolutely . . . _hurt _. . . destroyed._ Maybe now he'll have the slightest idea of how you've felt for years._

. . . _here we are again, I feel the chemicals kickin' in _. . .

"Right. Okay. What about –" His voice broke. He swallowed loudly before continuing on in a strained and hoarse voice. "Do you think – can we try . . . to be friends? Please? I need you in my life in some way . . . however small."

. . . _it's getting heavy and I wanna run and hide _. . .

I couldn't keep my head up. It was so fucking hard for me to deny him, hearing and seeing how affected he was—it was against my nature to let someone hurt, _to_ hurt someone—but I had to stick to my guns. I chanced a glance, a quick flick of my eyes to his crumpled face and watery eyes told me he already knew my answer, but needing to drive the stake into his heart—into my heart—a little deeper, I said the words anyway.

. . . _I do it every time _. . .

"I don't – I don't think that's such a good idea, right now . . . maybe ever." Tears slipped unchecked and unnoticed down my cheeks.

"Right. That's probably . . . Right, I should go, then." He started towards the door, but stopped beside me, almost close enough to touch again. "I know it's too late, but for what it's worth, I do love you . . . I always did. I was just too much of a coward to admit it."

His lips ghosted across my temple and then he was off again.

. . . _you're killin' me now _. . .

A strange feeling—a mix of panic and dread, fear and need—started to bubble up inside of me with every step he took, and with no premeditation, I found myself reaching out for him as I spun around, unable to let him leave. Somehow, I knew if I did, I would never see him again, and despite what I'd just said, I couldn't let happen. All the reasons I should allow it ran through my head, but my heart refused to listen. I caught his hand on its backswing, and he froze mid-stride.

. . . _and I won't be denied by you_ . . .

"Edward!" Finally finding my voice, his name rang out frantically. "Wait. Don't go. Not yet."

"Bella?" My name sounded tortured when he spoke it, a question and a plea all at once—_What, Bella? Please don't hurt me . . . tease me . . . make this harder_—neither of which did I know how to respond to.

. . . _the animal inside of you_ . . .

I responded without thinking, reacting the only way I knew how. And even though it went against everything I knew was right and everything I had just said, it was the only way I knew to keep him. Letting him go, him letting me go, was what I had convinced myself I wanted—desperately—but when it was finally within my grasp I found that it was the last thing I wanted. I pulled until our bodies collided and then wrapped myself around him like a vine.

"Take me to my bedroom, Edward. Now. Please. I need you to show me . . ." _That you love me, that you meant what you said._

. . . _say goodbye to my heart tonight _. . .

"Bella," he sighed, closing his eyes and resting his forehead on mine. It was not the reaction I was looking for. He took a deep breath, and released it slowly as he opened his eyes and met mine, looking torn and hesitant—reluctant, even—when he began to speak again. "Bella . . . I-I don't think – I'm not sure that's the best idea. I think we need to talk. I mean, look where sex has gotten us . . ."

. . . _hush, hush, the world is quiet_ . . .

All I heard was rejection and all I felt was its sting. _He doesn't want me? _Denial set in, my heart rejecting what my mind knew it had heard, and I struggled to make sense of the situation, even as my sense of self-preservation kicked in . . . _belatedly, I admit_. Recoiling, I tried to pull myself away from the source of my pain, to limp away and lick my wounds in peace, but he wouldn't let me go.

. . . _hush, hush, we both can't fight it_ . . .

"Bella?" The V between his brows grew more pronounced.

. . . _it's us that made this mess _. . .

Still grappling to understand what was happening, I vocalized my confusion, whimpering, "Are you . . . ? You don't . . . ? You don't want me?"

. . . _why can't you understand?_

Like a lock, all of the tumblers fell into place and the door opened, revealing the situation clearly to me and releasing my anger and humiliation. "Why are you even here then? What, were you stopping by to rub it in my face? All, '_Haha! I won! I knew I'd get you to spread your legs for me again. It was almost too easy!' _"

"What . . . ? N-no . . ." he stuttered, eyes wide.

"Just get the fuck out!" I screamed, trying to push him away. "You've had your fun, now leave!"

He didn't move or make any attempt to release me, and I needed him to leave before I completely broke down. Leaning back to gain the leverage and space I needed, I shoved against his chest as I stepped into him, my proximity and violence forcing him back while thoughtless, unknown words continued to tumble out of me, out of my control.

Something I said didn't sit well with him, outrage and cold fury washing over him, but I noticed too late. Before I could register what had happened, I was slammed against the wall, pinned in place by Edward's eyes and hard body. It was like suffering a bad case of déjà vu; we had been here before. For the longest time, we just stood there, locked in an intense staring contest, neither of us saying a word while our chests pressed-released-pressed-released in the staccato rhythm of our panting breaths.

He was as furious as I'd ever seen him, but I had no fear. At least, not of him hurting me physically; I knew he would never do that . . . _unless I asked him to. What? Sometimes I was in the mood for a little slap on the ass. _But I was certain I couldn't say the same for the few remaining fragments of my heart that I was only just starting to manage to piece together.

The seconds continued to pass us by and though I wanted to look away, I couldn't. Still, I found a small portion of my mind distracted by the ticking of his jaw. It was completely inappropriate—now was _so_ not the time—but I wanted to lick it . . . wanted him to lick me . . . I just _wanted_. _Because let's face it, an angry Edward Cullen was fucking hot. _Just when I was about to lose my mind and do something as stupid as pounce on him, he spoke, his voice low and rugged and barely controlled.

"Let's just get one thing clear here, that wasn't rejection. That was me trying to show you that I want more than your body. Fuck, you're giving me whiplash, Bella. I don't know what you want. One minute you accuse me of only wanting to fuck you and the next you're shoving me away for not taking you to your bedroom."

I didn't know what I wanted either . . . _except maybe to have my cake and eat it too _. . . but I didn't like having it thrown in my face by him. _God, why didn't I just let him walk away?_

"It's like no matter what I do, it's never what you want. I want to make this right, to get this right, but I just keep fucking it up worse than before. So if what you need right now is for me to show you . . . then that's what I'm going to do! I'll give you anything you want, but you have to let me."

He followed up his declaration with a searing, mind-altering kiss before I could object, the press of his lips and the sweep of tongue blowing me away. I don't think I could have fought against the desire that coursed through me if I wanted to, so when he gripped my ass and lifted me up, I eagerly wrapped my legs around his waist, forcibly pressing my lips back against his.

"Bedroom?" he asked without breaking the kiss.

"Huh? What . . . why?" I asked, utterly confused. _Surely where we were was just as good a place to throw down as any? We'd certainly done it in less _appealing _places before._

A burst of soft laughter vibrated against my lips. "Because we're not doing this against your door. I want you in a bed where I can take my time and worship you properly."

He stared into my eyes with an intensity that caused my mind to go blank, and I was gone, completely washed away. I found myself pointing vaguely in the direction of my room.

It took forever for us to make the trip to my bedroom, short as it was. Edward's refusal to stop kissing me—his mouth roaming the length of my neck and the curve of my shoulder, stopping randomly for the occasional nip—causing him to trip and stumble and bump us into walls, but eventually we did make it there. He tossed me, panting and needy, onto my bed and, without wasting any time, began to strip. I watched with hungry eyes as he toed his shoes off, shoved his tuxedo jacket off his arms, and then made quick, but not tidy, work of his cufflinks, bowtie, and shirt buttons.

"It's a good thing you own that shirt." Still tugging impatiently at the placket of his shirt, he looked up at me with one eyebrow raised.

"Otherwise you'd have to explain why so many buttons were missing," I explained as his patience ran out and he tugged at his shirt, ripping the remaining buttons completely off and then hastily ridding himself of the vexing garment. _What the fuck? Was I in a fucking Harlequin novel? If I start waxing poetic about his _throbbing member_, somebody please shoot me. _I shook the thoughts away. I had more important things.

"Bella, I'm a doctor – I could just sew them back on myself. They'd never even know," he retorted with no small amount of cockiness.

He was smirking in that crooked and sinfully delightful way of his as he removed his belt and unbuttoned his pants, leaving them to hang low on his hips in the most depraved of ways. _Fuck me, please._ Without thinking, I raised my hand to my mouth to wipe away the drool that I was certain was there, and prayed to Pothos and the patron saint of wardrobe malfunctions that he experience one immediately.

A snicker caused me to lift my eyes up, meeting Edward's. _Busted! _ My face flushed, more from arousal than embarrassment . . . _I think _. . . and Edward laughed, causing the corners of his eyes to crinkle. The pure happiness radiating from him at that moment was breathtaking. I found myself smiling back at him as something deeper than lust began to grow in my belly. As soon as I acknowledged it, the mood in the room shifted, deepening until the air was thick with it. Edward's smile fell, his face clouding with unnamed emotions.

Suddenly feeling shy, I dropped my eyes to my lap. A jolt went through me when I felt his hand on my chin, guiding up until my eyes met his. His other hand lifted up to stroke my face, and he gazed into my eyes with a soft but needy look in his own, whispering, "Don't. Don't hide from me, Bella. Not tonight, not ever."

He waited until I nodded before pressing me to the bed and slowly, ever . . . so . . . slowly . . . stripping his clothes off me. And then there was no more thinking, there was only worship and touch, prayer and exaltation. I was awash in sensation, a slave to my body and he was master of us both. When the tempest had run its course, Edward fell asleep with his head pressed to my chest, his ear right over my thudding heart. Sleep didn't come so easily to me. I was jealous of him, jealous at the ease with which dishonesty and betrayal came to him. _Well, he has had practice with it, _my inner cynic stated. I shied away from that thought, not wanting to go there.

He sighed my name in his sleep and snuggled further into me, as if needing to be closer. What he didn't know was that he couldn't get any closer to me; he was inside of me, a part of me, and I couldn't deny it any longer. All those months spent denying it, trying to convince myself that I felt nothing for him, that I hated him—which I did, but only for making me feel for him as I did—were obliterated by one sleepy sigh and unconscious cuddle. The dam that had retained it all burst, and it all came pouring out, devastating the landscape of my life.

Waiting for the tumult to settle, I looked down, carding my fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, his face angelically beautiful in repose, and I smiled softly. My eyes glistened with tears as the love I had for him overwhelmed me, swamping me, and my heart squeezed painfully in my chest. But the sharp pain reminded me of my guilt and the love I held for another, and the tears overflowed, slipping silently down my face.

_Why was this so hard?_ I railed to no one in particular, thinking that it shouldn't be possible to love more than one person at a time. It was possible though, it was just that the love could never be equal and you would inevitably have to choose. It should be an easy choice—the one you love most—but for me it wasn't that simple. I knew who I loved more, but I had an obligation to the other, one that couldn't simply be broken and forgotten, our lives were too entwined for that.

I knew what I had to do, what I would do, but for now, for the moment, for however long it would last, I wanted to just enjoy it. I wanted to pretend that we belonged to each other, that we weren't breaking our promises to others, that when the sun came up we wouldn't change back into pumpkins and that we wouldn't have to part ways. Ignoring reality, I allowed myself to bask in the moment, in him, and just floated in the sensation of being in his arms, skin against skin. Cradled in this delusion, I finally fell asleep just as the sky turned from black to the murky gray of predawn.

.

~∞Ѿ∞~

.

As I slowly drifted back into consciousness, the curious sensation of being watched pricked through the warm haze of sleep wrapped tightly around me. I stretched, blinking sleepily as awareness of my surroundings soaked in. The room came into focus, and I met green eyes looking down at me all sleep soft and happy. I froze mid-stretch, memories of the night before—all that had happened and the decisions I'd come to as sleep eluded me—crashing down on me.

_Oh, fuck. _

"How long have you been awake?" I asked, my voice raspy from sleep.

"Not long . . . a while – I don't know."

I sat up and scooted back to lean against my headboard, clutching the blankets to my chest to keep myself covered. "Were you watching me the entire time?"

He moved to sit beside me against the headboard and looked down, embarrassed at having been called out. "Your sleep talking woke me up. I didn't know you still did that," he said as if that would explain it. I didn't speak and he grew nervous with the silence. When it became too much for him, he shrugged his shoulders and said simply, "I like watching you sleep."

"Hmmm. Well . . . it's kind of creepy."

"Sorry." . . . _but not_, I added, seeing the expression on his face-embarrassed to have been caught but not ashamed. It made me feel all quivery inside.

I hummed dismissively, and then it was silent once again only this time no one rushed to fill it. We stared straight in front of us, neither of us seeing what was actually there, too lost in our own thoughts to care about the bare, white wall. My phone beeped from the living room, alerting me of a text was what finally prompted me to action.

"I should go . . ." I hedged, feet already on the ground. Awkwardly keeping the blankets around me, I reached down to the floor and grabbed the first article of clothing I came across. I pulled the shirt I had been wearing last night when Edward arrived over my head, tugging it down into place as I stood from the bed and headed to the living room, grateful that I'd gone with comfort last night and not my usual tank and panties.

My phone was nearly dead when I pulled it out of my clutch so I headed to the bar separating the kitchen from the living room and plugged it in to the charger there. I stood there holding the phone in my hand, staring at the black screen without attempting to check it. I was stalling, nervous about who the message was from. _Maybe it would go away if I ignored it long enough? _I thought, but it wasn't going away. If anything, it was only more present with every ticking second that I didn't read it.

With a feeling of dread, I unlocked the screen and pulled down the alert pane.

_Jake _was spelled out in white letters on the dark screen, and I felt the full weight of the devastation that what I'd done . . . _again and again_ . . . would cause him if he ever knew. I couldn't hurt him that way. He was a good man who loved me more than he should—more than I deserved. And, as much as I hated to think it, Charlotte probably felt the same for Edward that Jake did for me.

Anger flared inside me like a small, contained brush fire—red hot instantly, but quick to burn out. I was angry that Edward and I could do this to others. Angry that I could be part of hurting someone the way I'd been hurt. Angry that Edward could do to another what he'd done to me. _How could he ever think that I would want to be involved with him when he obviously couldn't be faithful?_ The anger drained from me, draining me. I was already exhausted despite having just awoken. That didn't bode well for my day.

With a sigh, I realized that I still needed to read Jake's message, so I opened it, cringing as soon as I saw the words.

_**Hey, babe. Hope your night was ok w/out me. Dad's fine. Let me know what your plans are for later – planning to drive in and make up *wink* for leaving you last night. See you in a few hours. Love you. **_

_Fuck._ Jake was the last person I wanted to see. There was no way I could be around him, much less have sex with him, as his message implied. My bed smelled like Edward . . . _and sex._ Not happening. With shaky, frantic fingers, I texted him back.

_Hey, yourself. While I'm thrilled that you were coming to see me, I'm hoping that you haven't made it too far. I didn't expect you to make the drive back today so I made plans. I'm going to brunch with the Cullens and then Alice and Esme are treating me to a spa day at Salish Lodge to celebrate starting my job on Monday. Wish you would have checked with me first._

I sent the message and then guiltily followed it up with another.

_Sorry._

His response came quickly.

_**Well, why don't I just find something to do in town, and then I'll just wait at the apartment until you get back?**_

_Fuck, Jake, just let it go! _I screamed in my head, frustrated.

_I don't think we're coming back until sometime tomorrow, _I lied again, thankful for text messaging since I was shit for lying in person or even on the phone.

_**Can't you cancel? I really wanted to spend time with you. I miss you. **_

_No, I can't. The reservations are non-refundable, and it would be rude to leave Esme and Alice out all that money. You really should have checked with me, Jake. You can't just expect that I'm going to be able to drop everything every time you decide you want to see me. _

I felt bad the instant I sent it because, while true, it was a bitchy thing to say and I shouldn't be angry and frustrated with him for wanting to spend time with me. I was his girlfriend, after all. I sent another message.

_I'm sorry. That was harsh. I promise I'll come to visit next weekend. I won't even make plans with Charlie. I'll give you my undivided attention. I love you, and I'll call you later tonight._

It took him a bit longer to respond this time, but he finally did and I cringed when I read it.

_**Fine. Whatever. I'll talk to you later.**_

I felt cold even if I didn't really have a right to; he didn't say that he loved he me. He always said that he loved me. I had so much to make up to him, but first I had to go deal with Edward. I'd have rather had every bone in my body broken than walk back in my bedroom and have the conversation that needed to be had.

.

~∞Ѿ∞~

.

I fucked around for as long as I could, straightening up my already tidy living room and grabbing a couple bottles of water, and then finally made the trek back to my bedroom.

Edward was laying on his stomach, face buried in the pillow I had slept on. I watched him for a moment, wanting to remember what he looked like in my bed, before I made my presence known.

"Hey," I said softly, startling him. He jerked, pushing himself up on his elbows and looking back at me from over his shoulder. The smile that stole over his face when he saw me was heartbreaking, because I knew what I was about to do would wipe it off his face. Edward was a lot of things, but rarely was truly happy one of them.

"Hey, yourself," he returned, causing my stomach to clench. "What took you so long?"

"I just had to deal with something," I answered evasively. Before he could question me further, I waggled a bottle of water at him. "Thirsty?"

"Yeah, thanks."

I tossed the bottle to him and then walked to the other side of the bed and sat on the edge, resting my elbows on my knees and my head in my hands. I played with the hem of his, now my, shirt, faded black cotton against milk-white skin, the contrast reminding me of the starkness of our situation.

. . . _too heavy, too light; too black or too white; too wrong or too right, damn tonight…cumbersome_ . . .

I felt so dirty again. What we had done was wrong…so wrong.

. . . _that's when I knew that I could never have you_ . . .

He scooted over to me, propping himself partially up with one arm and wrapping the other around me. Pulling me close, he kissed the side of my neck and then pressed his cheek against mine. "What are you doing all the way over here, baby?"

This was going to hurt—_God, it was going to hurt!_—but it had to be done.

"I can't . . ." I whispered brokenly, feeling wounds that had only just begun to heal, tearing open once more.

. . . _I knew that before you did, still I'm the one who's stupid_ . . .

He pressed another kiss to my neck—this one a little firmer, tinged with desperation and denial—and pulled me closer to him, nervously rubbing his thumb back and forth against my side. Keeping me tightly to his chest, his mouth worked it's way up my neck. A shiver ran through me when he nuzzled his face against that spot by my ear, and asked, "Can't what, love?"

He tried to mask it, but I knew him too well to not hear the slight tremor in his voice or detect the undercurrent of fear.

. . . _and there's this burning_, _like there's always been_ . . .

"This, Edward," I answered tonelessly. "This can't happen again. I can't do that to him. He - he loves me . . . God, he loves me so much! He's been so good to me, even in the beginning when I was so awful to him, and this is how I repay him. This was a mistake, Edward, and it's not going to happen again. It can't; I love him."

He recoiled from me, pale and drawn as he leaned back on his palms, the sheet barely remaining over him, only covering his lap.

"What?" he questioned, his voice hollow as if he couldn't comprehend what I was saying. "I thought . . . after last night . . . but now . . . I don't . . . Bella, I don't understand. Don't say that, baby. _Please, _don't say that. You can't . . . You don't mean that, I know you don't."

He was right, I didn't mean it, but I wanted to . . . _needed_ to. But, in the end, it didn't matter, because even though it would kill me to do it, not doing so would kill me too. _Perhaps too late, but it would seem I was finally developing a sense of self-preservation._ I was damned no matter which way the cookie crumbled . . . or something to that effect, but I was certain that path I'd chosen was the least damning one for everyone involved-me, him . . . _them_. Still, he wasn't making it easy on me.

"I do," I stated, just managing to stop myself from cringing as those two simple words-words that I would never admit I had imagined myself saying to him in completely different circumstances-echoed in my head, mocking me cruelly. Miraculously, I never faltered. Channeling all of my sorrow and pain, I was the picture of resolute as I met gaze head on. "You should go. I'm sure you have to call your girlfriend or - I don't know - be at the hospital soon. I'll let you get dressed."

And with that, I forced myself out of my room, grabbing my sweats from the night before on the way, but not tugging them on until I was in the living room. Just before I pulled my door closed behind me, I'd stolen a glance at him and he still hadn't moved an inch. He'd just been sitting there, stunned and still, staring off into space as-I assumed-what had just happened sunk in. I didn't know how long that would take, but I hoped it would be sooner rather than later. I couldn't relax until he was gone because the longer he was there, the more likely I was to crack and take back what I'd said.

I perched nervously on the edge of my couch, searching fruitlessly for a distraction while I waited for him to emerge. The sound of my door colliding with the wall, alerting me that he was heading my way, sent me scampering to the kitchen since it was the farthest I could get from him without leaving my apartment entirely. With sure, determined steps, he made his way down the hall while I cowered in the corner, my back turned on the rest of my apartment. I was too much of a pussy to be able to face him after what I'd just done.

I held my breath, the only sound-unnaturally loud in my ears-was the thud of his shoes in time with the pounding of my heart as he made his way across my living room en route to the door. His feet came to an abrupt stop just shy of his destination, causing my heart to stutter-stop in my chest. I gasped, choking on my still-held breath and kickstarting my unmoving heart. Slow but powerful beats hammered painfully against my breastbone, speeding to frantic pace as I turned to see what had made him stop. By the time I fully faced him, if felt as my body was vibrating from the frenzied pulse of the organ.

He stood in front of the kitchen entry, facing the apartment door in front of him, his profile standing out sharply in the dim light of the living room and his hands tightly clenched at his side. I could see his emotions playing across his face like watching a parade in quadruple-time. They ranged from hurt to annoyance to disgust, showing a thousand shades and variances between them, before finally settling on anger.

Slowly turning his head to look at me, he met my eyes straight on and, for once, didn't try to hide himself from me or disguise how he felt to protect me-to protect himself. He was completely bared to me, and the naked fury on his face, in his eyes, was like a punch in the gut, the unexpected jab causing me to stumble backwards into the wall behind me. It was like watching a storm cloud ready to burst as he repeatedly open and closed his mouth, his face only growing more thunderous as he continued to soundlessly work his mouth. He gave up after a moment. Resolutely clenching his jaw, he gave me a final perusal-disappointment creeping into his eyes behind the rage-shook his head, and then continued on his way to the door while I hung my head in shame.

Because I apparently don't learn from my mistakes and also felt a need to be crueler than I already had been . . . _because I was not only a masochist, but a sadist, as well_ . . . I stupidly called out for him, stopping him before he could take the three steps necessary to leave me once and for all.

"Edward!" I waited for less than a breath before I heard him stop. "I'm sorry, but this changes nothing. You still have a girlfriend and I'm still with Jake."

But it did . . . change everything, that is.

..._I never been so alone_…

.

~∞Ѿ∞~

.

That's how it all started. It wasn't like we jumped into it with both feet—I had meant it when I said it wasn't going to happen again, and I had every intention of sticking to it.

For a while, I did. It wasn't until weeks after that night that we found ourselves in bed together again . . . _or against a bookshelf, rather_. I hadn't meant for it to happen . . . _What? You tripped? Fell? Landed on his dick? _It was an argument gone wrong—one minute we were fighting over who knows what, the next I was pressed against a bookshelf in the library at his parent's house in Forks with Edward fucking me like he had something to prove. It became a pattern . . . _fight, fuck, fight, fuck_ . . . and every time it happened, I would swear that it would be the last time, but it never was.

As these kinds of situations seem to do (_at least, I assume_), it all spiraled out of control. At first, it was just picking fights with the other on the rare occasions we happened to be in the same place at the same time. When that wasn't enough, we started coming up with excuses to _accidentally_ bump into each other and making up shit to fight about. Eventually, we stopped bothering with the pretext, but we still refused to discuss what we were doing. I think we were both too afraid that acknowledging it would shatter the delicate illusion we'd created and neither of us were willing to do that.

In the beginning, the guilt over what we were doing ate me up, but as is human nature, I quickly found ways to live with it.

_. . . and all I want is something special, and you can't give it to me . . ._

Jacob was loyal, comfortable, and easy. I knew he could never hurt me to the depth that Edward had because I had never given him enough of myself to make it possible. He was the safe, reliable choice; he was what I needed and what I should want, but he was also the vanilla, boring choice. I could be happy with him—I _was _happy with him—but I wasn't complete. Deep inside, I sometimes felt as if there was a part of me that was starving, that I was living a half-life that was slowly killing me.

Edward was everything Jake wasn't . . . _both good and bad_. He was like a flame that lit me from the inside, sustenance to my heart and soul; everything was so much brighter and more vibrant with him. He _really _knew me – my wants, my dreams . . . my fears. But he was also the risky, dangerous choice, and couldn't be trusted. He was the only person who could hurt me—the one who _had _hurt me—and I didn't know if I could survive that again. I was fairly certain it would destroy me.

For me, it was the best of both worlds – I could have what I wanted the most while still getting what I needed and deserved. No longer was it my head versus my heart; this way, I didn't have to choose, I could satisfy both. And no one had to get hurt . . . _so long as no one finds out. _

_. . . and all you do is lie to me, 'cause you're a liar, liar, liar . . ._

I should have remembered that lies and liars always get found out.

.

~∞Ѿ∞~

* * *

**Songs Used*  
(In Order of Appearance):**

_Gravity,_ The Dresden Dolls_  
Animal, _Neon Trees_  
She's Like the Wind, _Patrick Swayze_  
Animal, _Neon Trees_  
Cumbersome,_ Seven Mary Three_  
Motorcycle Drive By, _Third Eye Blind  
_Guilty Conscience, _Eminem_  
Liar,_ The Cranberries

_*All songs are the property of their respective owners. No copyright infringement intended._

Notes:

1. _"Your WASP roots are showing!" _– WASP is an acronym meaning White Anglo-Saxon Protestant, WASPs generally inherited their wealth, and are ivy league/prep school educated. Perceived as a bit cold and detached emotionally. The term is usually used in a derogatory manner by non-WASPs.

2. _"Chillax, Mr. Howell . . ." _– Thurston Howell, III was a character on the classic television show _Gilligan's Island._

3. Pothos is the Greek god of sexual longing, yearning and desire. One of the Erotes, a group of winged gods and demigods associated with love, sex and part of Aphrodite's retinue


End file.
